Moving On
by Sultry Sweet
Summary: CHAPTERS 6 & 7 NOW UP! Catherine Willows is known to have control in life, but what happens when the coincidental presence a new boss sends Catherine's life flying into chaos? Cath/Sara, Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**New story. Hopefully no one here hates me for posting this before finishing all the other stories I've promised to get back to, which I will, but this seemed more important. NOTE: This story is being written almost in real time as it follows the storylines and structure of season 12 (the current season in the US). This may contain spoilers for some readers.  
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_Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't fight it. Stay in control. Hide your fear. Hold back your tears. Get DNA. Forget the hand gripped around your neck. Remain focused. He can't win. I won't let him win. I refuse to be another one of his victims. I've got to plan this, time this, just right. I've got to make it out alive for more than myself. _

"What do you think of me now, you little bitch," he snarled at me, his blade to my throat.

I could taste the metal as I tried not to gulp or gasp for breath, afraid the knife would pierce my skin.

He tightened his grip around my throat and I felt myself losing more oxygen than I wanted to at this point. I thought if I could breathe a little longer, I could still nurse the idea that the team would find me. Now, I'd be lucky if they ever find my body.

He jerked me around and thrust the back of my head against the ground. I groaned and squirmed, unable to free myself from his hold. He had me pinned against the dusty, muddy, cracked and chipped concrete floor and my chances of survival dwindled with every bit of force he used.

"Careful, Miss Willows. As a CSI and casino owner, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself," he grinned like a mad man before he started to cackle like one as well.

"Let's see what we've got to work with," he continued as he looked me over a few times. "You're of a certain age now. You really should have a check up."

As he clenched and unclenched his fist around my neck, he ran the knife along the front of my body.

"What's this," he asked as his knife caressed one of my breasts. "Oh, this is a problem. We're going to need to do some surgery here."

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath between his mini-strangling sessions to control myself. I wasn't going to give in and grant him the power he desired. He needed to be powerless in order for me to make it out of here relatively unscathed.

"I hear breast cancer is the worst. There are so many ways it can effect women. As your doctor, I'm just looking out for you. ...So, what do you think? Should we cut our girl open and take a look inside?"

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly enough for a few tears to escape. He climbed completely on top of me and kept his hand around my neck, but reduced the amount of pressure he applied. Instead of strangling me, he used his position to restrain me.

"On the count of three," he said. "One...two-"

"Ah! God."

"Oops," his grin widened. "I couldn't wait for three."

He had slashed the knife vertically from my collarbone to my bra in one swift movement. I couldn't control my breathing, my heart rate erratic as I grunted, groaned, and tried to ignore the burning pain in my chest. Blood trickled down my chest and seeped into my bra, down my shirt, and made my new injury undeniable.

A few more tears strayed from my eyes and, grinning, he moved on to something else that caught his interest. He lifted up my shirt to the under wire in my bra and looked down at my exposed skin with eyes as wide a saucers.

"What about this stomach? Anything wrong with it?"

"No," I yelled through gritted teeth as I still struggled to control myself mentally as well as physically.

"Well, how would you know if no one's cut you open for a little peek?"

He playfully ran the knife in various patterns on my stomach as I bucked and thrashed around underneath him. Unfortunately, nothing I did prevented him from slicing my stomach from left to right and ending the torture by slowly penetrating my abdomen.

I screamed and clenched my fists beneath his knees, those knees serving as restraints for my arms. When I opened my eyes, everything was out of focus and surrounded by white clouds. I could tell I was about to pass out from the pain.

Suddenly, I heard a loud thud and yelling coming from across the room. Through my warped vision, I saw my attacker look over his shoulder in the direction I remember him dragging into the place before he went all slasher movie on me.

"Get away from her. Now," a muffled voice yelled as they approached the two of us.

"Get away from her, Pete," a lower, steadier voice warned.

I started to feel numb from the pain, my vision slowly starting to return to normal, never really achieving full normalcy, but enough to make out what was going on in front of me.

I turned to where Pete, my attacker, was looking and saw Sara Sidle and Jim Brass with police backup inching toward us with stern expressions.

Pete sadistically chuckled before he twisted the knife and plunged it a tiny bit further into my abdomen. I yelped and tried to free my arms from under the weight of his knees. Without hesitation, Sara fired her gun and the next thing I heard was a grunt from Pete as he lurched forward. I looked up at him to see him on his way down, heading straight for me.

Quickly, I yanked my arms out from under him and placed my hands firmly on his chest to keep him from falling on top of me. With all the strength I had left, I pushed him aside and let his body fall next to me. I took several deep breaths as I tried not to shriek with rage, sorrow, and frustration.

I felt a hand touch the side of my head as I stared at Pete and watched the life drain out of him, his final breath taken as he saw me survive his thwarted attack. I didn't want to be touched, but the hand gently stroking my hair was non-threatening and familiar. As I started to cry, I turned back to see Sara kneeling beside me, her gun nowhere near her. I took a deep breath as I whimpered, her face full of sympathy.

"It's okay, Cat," she whispered, her brunette locks dangling in front of my eyes. "It's over."

I reached my shaky hand out and grabbed hers. We never broke eye contact as she squeezed my hand, reassuring me I wasn't alone.

Sirens sounded as they raced to our location, the red and white lights blinding even as I lay on the ground. I slowly exhaled as a way of trying to relax, knowing that worrying wouldn't help me recover any sooner.

When I arrived at the lab, I couldn't escape the looks. I hated the looks. Everyone stared at me with wide eyes as I walked past and wondered how I felt, why I was back at work so soon, and if I was okay. I didn't want to answer any of those questions and wanted even less to have anyone ask them.

Suddenly, someone rushed out of a lab and into the hallway. They ran right in front of me and I jerked to a stop to avoid crashing into them, which caused one of my stitches to pop.

"Ah," I placed a hand over my stomach and cringed.

"Sorry," the hurried lab rat quickly apologized while scurrying away.

I tried to take a deep breath as I felt a small amount of blood seep through my shirt I started to walk again and kept my teeth gritted through the discomfort. As I lowered my hand and exposed the part of my shirt that had started to absorb blood, Sara drifted out of a lab and looked both ways down the hall. When she saw me inching along, she quickly made her way to me.

"Hey, Cat, what are you doing here," she asked with sincere concern as she gently touched my arm and looked over my shirt.

"I'm fine," I answered as she ushered me into the nearest lab.

"That wasn't the question," she sternly said as she helped me onto a stool and looked me straight in the eyes with a glimmer of anger and disappointment.

I sighed as I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter. She grabbed the hem of my shirt and lifted it up to my bra.

"You should still be on bed rest at home, taking it easy. It's only been four weeks," she said as she further inspected the damage.

"I know."

She went to one of the cupboards and grabbed antiseptic and gauze.

"I couldn't do it anymore," I continued.

She made eye contact with me for a few seconds before she returned her focus on fixing up my wound.

"Lindsey kept offering to help me even though she had class. I didn't want to be babied. The house is lonely when I'm the only one there, bored to tears because I can't do anything. My mom came over unannounced and thought the best remedy to my problems would be to annoy me. Lou..." I sighed. "And Lou is an entirely different story."

She looked up at me again as she applied pressure on my wound.

"Ah."

"Hold this for me," she said as she slowly started to make her way back to the cupboard.

I took control and pressed the gauze to my stomach as Sara grabbed medical tape from the cupboard.

"I'm taking you home," she came back to me and gently taped me up.

"You don't have to do that. I can take care of myself."

"Right, that's why you busted a stitch today. You were taking care of yourself."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'll be fine. I can stay here an-and I'll...stick to desk work."

"That's not going to happen," she lightly laughed.

"Oh, so...now you're the boss of me?"

"If that's who I have to be to keep you from hurting yourself," she informed me between glances.

"Well, you can't make me leave with you," I firmly stated.

"You think so?"

"I know it."

She held out her arm and I gripped my right hand around her forearm. I used her for support as I slowly got to my feet, which was her intention when she physically reached out to me.

"Then let me prove you wrong," she said as she wrapped her arm around my waist and dragged me out of the room with her.

"Didn't I say one of the reasons I didn't want to stay at home was because I didn't want to be babied," I tried to squirm my way out of her hold.

She squeezed my hip and pulled me closer to her, which made it that much harder to get away without busting another stitch.

"The only place you're going is home," she said as she escorted me out of the building.

I sighed and rolled my eyes as Sara walked me through the parking lot.

"Why do you care so much? It's not like I'm going to do any field work!"

"One of your stitches popped open because you moved too quickly to avoid someone. Field work or not, you can't handle being on your feet too often."

"I can handle it," I bitterly defended myself.

"Okay, you can handle it, but your body can't. That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

I scoffed.

"You're not my mother."

"No, I'm your friend. As your friend, I'm going to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

I shook my head as we got to her personal car.

"Get in," she softly said as she let go of me.

I stared at her for a moment and she made eye contact with me. What we weren't saying to each other, spoke volumes.

I finally looked away and opened the passenger side door. I carefully got into the car and took a deep breath. I had a few more challenges ahead of me and I wasn't sure how I'd make it through the obstacle course.

Sara walked around the front of the car and slid into the driver's side seat. She started the car and looked at me before she drove out of the parking lot. The ride was short and quiet and I didn't know what to expect. Sara and I hadn't talked since I was attacked and her trips to visit me in the hospital were a blur. I knew, though, that she took a lot of heat from Ecklie after she shot my attacker, but I didn't see her complaining. I didn't know what had happened after she went back to work, but I had heard a few things from Greg when he stopped by my hospital room the day the doctors released me.

As we pulled into my driveway, I stared at my house with disappointment.

"Hey," she started as she grabbed my wrist. "If you want, I can stay with you for about an hour."

"No, you've got to get back to work."

"I'm due for a break."

I stared straight into her eyes and felt her gaining power over me. I couldn't argue with her so I nodded and got out of the car. Sara followed after me and in less than a minute, we were walking through the front door.

I let her in as she pulled out her cell phone and typed away.

"Who are you texting," I asked out of curiosity.

"Greg. I'm letting him know that I'm going on break."

"Okay," I responded as I headed toward the stairs, Sara only a step behind me the entire way.

"Hey," she started after she looked up from her phone. "Wouldn't it be easier to stay down here?"

"If easier means I'll be stuck sleeping on the couch, I don't care about what's easier."

She smiled.

"I can help you up the stairs before I leave. Why don't we relax in the living room, in front of a TV."

"Sara Sidle likes TV. Didn't see that one coming," I smirked.

She rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Ha ha. Very funny," she sarcastically said as she gently tugged me by the arm into the living room.

I plopped onto the couch after she gracefully fell onto it and grabbed the remote. She flipped through several channels and attempted to relax. I could feel her muscles sliding deeper into the couch and watched as she tapped her feet again the hardwood floor.

She slowly released a sigh and looked at me.

"I know I'm probably going to get hit for saying this, but...if you want to talk about what happened-"

"No, I quickly answered. "It was nice of you to take me home and fix me up, but if you thought that meant I'd talk about it, you should leave."

"Okay," she calmly said as she nestled herself into the couch.

I furrowed my brow and stared at her for a moment.

"What are you doing," I blurted out of frustration and confusion.

She turned her head and looked at me for a silent beat.

"You said if I thought you were going to talk about that night, I should leave. You never said I couldn't stay if I wasn't expecting you to talk. I didn't expect you to."

She kept eye contact with me for a few more seconds before she looked back at the television.

I sighed and tried to focus on the television myself, but after a couple beats, I gulped and took a deep breath.

"I saw him at the casino," I started.

She turned to me again and paid close attention, waiting with anticipation for the rest of my confession.

"I didn't think too much of him at the time. I really only worried that he might try to steal from the Eclipse. When I left, I didn't notice the car following me until I was a few blocks from home. I turned around and headed back to the casino. He still followed me. I knew something was wrong so I tried to play it off like I forgot something. I tried to get to Jerry, you know...the guy I have running the place..."

I looked at her in time to see her nod. She wouldn't take her eyes off me.

I took another deep breath as I vividly recalled what happened next.

"_Shelly, I need to see Jerry now," I started to panic in front of the receptionist. _

"_I'm sorry, Catherine, but he's not answering his phone. He must be on the floor."_

"_Then call his cell phone."_

"_Catherine-"_

"_Just do it! …Please," I desperately begged._

_I turned to my left to look out onto the casino floor and saw the guy again. He seemed in search of something until his eyes locked on mine. My heart pounded louder than any sound I'd ever heard as he stared me down with vicious intent. In his dark eyes and resemblance to the devil in his crooked grin, I feared my suddenly doomed fate._

_I sighed out of frustration, but more so out of fear before I rushed off to find Jerry. I raced past plenty of gamblers, lust-struck couples, and a world-wind of colors. I couldn't process much except for the fact that I didn't have my service weapon on me and hardly any other form of protection to use. _

_I ducked in and out of heavy crowds as casino rush hour rocketed into its busiest time of the night, circling around the entire building. I never saw Jerry._

_When I looked behind me to see if he was still following me, I didn't see anything more than young kids spending loads of money on games they thought they could beat in their drunken stupor. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I sighed out of relief and slowly turned back around as opened my eyes and heard a slot machine ding close by. The second I turned around, though, I deeply regretted it as I stood face to face with the man who had been stalking me. _

_A crowd of cheering winners passing by served as the perfect cover as he swiftly, and undetectably yanked me out of the casino. I couldn't breathe as he squeezed my lower abdomen and hurriedly hauled me into his beat up truck. It didn't matter how much of a struggle I put up. Nothing seemed to work and before I knew it, I was bound in the tightly spaced backseat. _

_He reached behind his seat and blindfolded me. I didn't have any sense of time and had no idea where he was taking me, but I figured it was where he took all of his victims. That's when I saw myself as one of them, one of his victims. _

_At some point, we pulled over and my fear rose to a whole new level. I'd never been so scared in my life until that moment of utter silence with the exception of doors opening and closing, assuming I was in the middle of nowhere with no way for the team to find me. _

_I grunted as he grabbed me, pulling me out of the truck. Still blindfolded, he tossed me around until we were in some tiny space. He hastily ripped away the blindfold and I saw wooden walls and a poorly lit space. _

"It smelled like a barn," I continued to explain to Sara. "But I could tell plenty of chemicals had been used there."

She instinctively reached out and placed her hand on my lower thigh. I slowly took a deep breath and tried to keep myself grounded while reliving the event in my mind.

"There's...there's something I didn't tell the officers. ...I couldn't."

She furrowed her brow and cocked her head to one side.

"What is it?"

I looked up and met her eyes. As I stared into those brown pools of concern and sympathy, I realized I didn't want to tell her and change her view about me. I didn't want to admit a moment of weakness. I needed to stay on top, have control, especially after my demotion.

I shook my head and slid away from her touch. She frowned and dismissed the situation.

My phone suddenly buzzed and I jumped. As I quickly calmed down, I looked up at Sara to see if she noticed my reaction and she did. I sighed and looked down at the caller ID. My eyes grew wide when I read the name.

"Hey," I shakily answered, trying to not to show my hand to Sara. "Uh, now's not a good time. ...I know and I told you, I'm fine."

I looked over at Sara again to make sure she wasn't suspicious of the conversation. She had a peaked interest, but I couldn't read her beyond that.

"No! There's no need for you to come here. I'll be okay."

Sara silently excused herself and headed toward the kitchen. I watched her disappear around the corner and relaxed a bit before I became less careful with my words.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call you back, but I told you...I'm busy and now, with what happened...I'm not ready to commit to anything, okay? ...No, it's not that. I had a great time, but...No, he's got nothing to do with it. ...I'm one hundred percent sure. ...Listen," I said as I looked over my shoulder to make sure Sara was still in the kitchen. "I can't do this with you right now. In fact, I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I know I definitely wasn't thinking straight."

"I don't care what you can and can't deal with right now as far as we go," he started. "I want to see you. I need to see you."

"I can't. ...I've got to go. I'll call you later. ...This time I really will call you later. ...Bye."

I blew out a sigh after I hung up.

"I'm sensing trouble," Sara flatly said as she towered over me with two glasses of water.

"That was...Lou. He just wanted to check up on me."

"I thought he went to see you at the hospital?"

"Yeah. He's just...playing the role of the extremely concerned boyfriend. He heard about my surprise visit to the lab, somebody must have told him and now he's worried I'm pushing myself too hard."

"Well, I agree."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"But I'm not going to hassle you about it. ...I trust you."

My eyes darted up to meet hers once again. Her eyes told me she spoke the truth.

Guilt washed over me and felt myself drowning, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Something wrong," she asked as I stared at the floor in shame.

"Oh...no. Just thinking," I lied. "What are we watching?"

She squinted her eyes as she clearly attempted to read me.

"I think it's a re-run," she slowly said as she continued to look me over. "Either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Charmed."

"Wow," I tried to keep the conversation light and keep the subject changed. "For someone I didn't peg as a T.V. person, you sure know a few shows."

"I only know them because of my goddaughter. I can't really tell them apart, though."

"You have a goddaughter," I asked, sincerely baffled.

"Yeah, in San Francisco. My best friend's kid."

"And you're bad with kids?"

"It's not like I see her all the time. Plus, she's eleven so when I first started working here in Vegas, I truly didn't know the first thing about kids. She was only a year old then."

"And now?"

"I can honestly say I know a lot more about adolescent girls than I wanted to, but I love my goddaughter," she smiled.

I smiled back.

"That's exactly how I felt with Lindsey."

I looked at the screen and watched for a few moments before I spoke again.

"So...how long do you plan on keeping me company," I changed the subject again.

"As long as I need to without getting fired."

"You should probably go."

She whipped around and stared at me with a puzzled expression.

"I'll be okay," I faintly smiled.

She still looked at me with disbelief.

"You trust me...right," I asked.

She took a deep breath and got to her feet.

"Okay. I'll see you later...and it better not be at the lab," she warned as she headed toward the front door.

I smiled and lightly chuckled.

"I promise the next time you see me, I'll still be here."

"Good. If you need anything, call me, okay?"

"Okay," I softly said, accompanied by a small nod.

She walked out as she looked back at me, smiling. Her smile was infectious so I continued to smile back, even as the door closed behind her. I took a deep breath and released it in a sigh before I picked up my phone again. I opened the call history and looked over the name of the last caller. It wasn't Lou. Not by a long shot.

I closed my eyes and laid back. I gently rested my head on the couch cushion and thought, _How am I going to do this?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_I know, it's shorter, but I promise it'll keep you hooked. Enjoy. :)  
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Sara Sidle lazily drifted through the lab halls with her hands in her pockets. She behaved indifferently toward the issues arising around her as she thought of only one thing: killing the bastard that took it upon himself to climb onto Catherine Willows, one of her respected colleagues.

She replayed the images in her head like flashes of a bad dream come back to haunt her, hoping for some insight and receiving none. She clenched her fists in her pockets as she headed into the new supervisor's office to regain perspective on the present rather than search for it in the past. When she saw the thin, gangly, white haired man sitting at his desk, the name D.B. Russel etched onto his name plate, she unclenched her fists and sucked in a large burst of air through her nose.

"Oh, good, Sara...just the person I wanted to talk to," the man waved her further into his office.

"I know. That's why you sent me a text, right?"

He smiled at her as he stood.

"Take a seat."

She slowly released the air she'd previously sucked in with a sigh and slid into one of the visitors chairs in front of his desk.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," he started as he leaned against the front edge of his desk. "What happened the night of the shooting..."

She rolled her eyes.

"Look, I don't know what everyone wants from me involving that night, but I did what I thought was necessary."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not trying to beat facts out of you. This isn't an interrogation. ...I just wanted to ask...is Catherine okay?"

Sara relaxed as her boss stared at her with sincere concern and cluelessness.

"Yeah...I mean, there's still something she's not saying about that night, but she's ready to come back to work. Her body isn't, though."

"Okay. ...Good. Uh, listen, will you keep an eye on her? I don't like thinking one of our own is benched and wants nothing more than to work through whatever's going on that we don't even know about."

"I'm already looking out for her," she flatly confessed with slight embarrassment.

He stared at her for a moment, sizing her up as a way to get inside her head for a moment. He couldn't read her, but he took his chances and let it go.

"All right. Then we've got everything under control. Now, I don't want you working any serious cases, especially so soon after the incident."

"What? It's been over two weeks! Besides, I wasn't the one that was abducted."

"Yes, but you shot a man. That doesn't just go away. And I've had you on desk duty for the past two weeks, which clearly doesn't maximize your potential and I really want to utilize this team for the hand full of cases recently reported."

"So...I'm benched now, too?"

"Yeah," he said slowly as though he didn't understand how she couldn't have gotten the message the first time.

"That's bullshit! What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, Catherine's on bed rest...go help her out, keep her from busting open another stitch."

Sara's eyebrows jumped into her hairline.

"Word gets around," he calmly said as he swiftly gravitated toward the office door.

She furrowed her brows and slowly, awkwardly, got out of the chair and followed the man out. She blew out a sigh and shook her head out of frustration as she made her way to the front door. Her boss went in the opposite direction without a care about her, which left Sara with nothing.

As she approached her car in the lot, she pulled out her phone and checked the time.

_11:34pm, _she read in her mind before she rolled her eyes. _Great._

She slid into her personal car and slowly made it out of the parking lot. She drove toward her apartment and wiped her hand over her face as a way of calming herself down.

It didn't work.

As she pulled into her apartment building's parking lot, she couldn't help but feel useless. She didn't know what she was suppose to do when her sleep schedule involved staying up all night to solve crimes.

She thought about what her boss suggested, but didn't want to disturb Catherine. She knew the redhead could take care of herself and, even through her pride about being good enough to work, she was probably knocked out from all the excitement of the night before when she came into the lab.

Instead, Sara walked into her apartment and picked up her home phone. She dialed a number she hadn't dialed in a few weeks and listened to the line ring.

"Hello," a familiar voice answered.

She forced a smile to convince herself the sound of the other person's voice made things better, but she still knew what happened to her at work only ten minutes ago and that voice just won't cut it.

"Hey," she attempted to sound cheery. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"No. I'm glad you called. What's going on?"

She took a deep breath and sighed as she felt tears forming in her eyes.

"Gil... I don't know what to do," she tried her hardest to keep her voice even and hold back her tears.

"What's wrong," he flatly asked, though there was a hint of concern in his undertone.

"Two weeks ago...I shot a man who had abducted Catherine. ...I keep thinking about it and I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"I don't...It's just...the things I felt...before I shot him," she started to explain. "There was all this anger, rage. I...I don't know."

She heard noises in the background on the other end and slowly closed her eyes as she let out a small sigh.

"I'm sorry, Sara. Continue," he gently urged her.

"No, it's okay. Get back to them. That's Gerald, Tom, and Richard, right?"

"Yes."

"Focus on the research. You could use another grant. I'm just tired."

"Are you sure? You don't sound okay."

"I'm fine, Gil," she forced herself to sound somewhat happy. "Go. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She hung up and wiped away a tear before it fell. She took a long, deep breath and grabbed her keys off the counter. She walked out the door and locked it behind her. By the time she jumped into her car, she had a look of determination on her face. She was committed.

She turned over the engine and took off, speeding away into the late night. 

I tossed and turned for several hours as I tried to sleep, but I didn't have any luck. The only luck I did have was reopening the same stitch I busted the other day.

I cleaned up the blood and applied pressure for a while as I sat wide awake in my living room, watching television. I sighed as I blankly stared at the screen until I could call the doctor to patch me up again.

I looked at my cell phone on the coffee table in front of me and frowned. Sara told me I could call her if I needed anything, but I knew she would be busy at the lab. I didn't want to bother her and I liked to believe I had too much pride to always need someone to take care of me.

I took a beep breath and released it with a heavy sigh. I leaned forward and gritted my teeth through the light pain as I grabbed the phone. I searched through my list of contacts and stumbled upon the one name I shouldn't have kept in my contact. I gasped and held my breath as my thumb hovered over the call button. I knew I shouldn't call, but I couldn't stop myself. When it came to that number, I knew I would get what I needed.

My thumb punched the button and instantly, the phone started ringing. I finally exhaled and then closed my eyes in order to relax.

"Hello," the all too familiar voice groggily answered.

"Hey, it's Catherine. I'm sorry to wake you, but... I was hoping you would come over. ...I tore a stitch and I need some company until the doctor's office opens."

"I started getting dressed the minute you said 'hey'."

I smiled and hoped the phone call would solve my problems, at least for the time being until I could properly deal with everything that's rattling around in my brain.

After fifteen minutes of losing my mind to boredom and mindless, middle-of-the-night television, I heard the knock on the door I imagined would change my life all over again.

I stood up and hurried to the front door, my hand pressed to my stomach the entire way. When I opened the door, I smiled as he immediately met my eyes and displayed his concern though his sleepy disheveled appearance.

"Are you okay," he firmly asked, his tone heard as a musical cadence.

"Yes. I'm...I will be. I just couldn't watch the _700 Club _anymore," I laughed with exhaustion.

He flashed a small smile and I stepped aside as a silent invitation for him to come inside. He accepted and eased his way through the threshold.

"Do you want something," he started as he made his way toward the stairs, but stopped to turn and look at me. "I can make you tea, get you some water, rub your feet."

I lightly laughed, which forced me to press harder on my stomach as it caused more pain for me to laugh.

"I don't need anything, but you seem to need something. What's going on with you, McQuaid?"

He puffed out a sigh.

"I know we agreed to to keep our personal lives to ourselves so we won't get too attached, but...I tend to push people away. I pushed my fiancee away after she was attacked and...I lost her."

I furrowed my brow .

"What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath before he began.

"I was working late trying to catch a serial killer and that I'd be another hour tops, trying to find his next target even though I knew I'd still come home empty-handed no matter if I left then or an hour from then.

When I got home, it was eerily quiet, but I figured she was asleep. I went upstairs, did my usual late night routine, and when I got to the bedroom...I heard sobbing. I peaked around the corner into the bathroom and saw her crying on the floor. She was bruised and soaking wet. She told m...she told me she had been raped. I couldn't look at her let alone take care of her when she needed me.

She tried to get help...but I wasn't there for her and...and she took her life."

My jaw slowly dropped, lips parted.

"So if you want me here...even just to keep you company...I'm here for you."

He stared at me with all seriousness in his heart and mind.

"Oh...wow. ...Well, uh, thank you."

I didn't know how else to respond.

"Uh...look. I just...need someone to watch TV with me right now-"

"Good. I'm good at that," he smiled.

I smiled back and shut the door before we headed to the living room. I continued to hold my stomach as the two of us took a seat on the couch.

"So...do you really just want to sit here and watch this," McQuaid smiled with a hint of laughter.

"No," I blushed. "But all my movies are in that container...across the room."

I pointed at the clear box tucked under the moderately sized entertainment center.

"Well," he said as he stood up. "Allow me to help you with your selection."

He pulled out the container and popped open the lid.

"Huh. Not a lot of selection beyond chick flicks," he chuckled as he looked between the container and me.

"What do you expect? I'm a chick," I grinned.

He smiled and shook his head before he stared into the container again.

"Well...I'm personally a fan of this one," he dug one of the cases out of the bottom of the container.

My jaw dropped, but the corners of my mouth still curled upward.

"Really," I said with disbelief before I grinned again.

He laughed and put it in the DVD player while I pressed the Input button on the remote control. When I saw the DVD player's home screen displayed, he took his seat next to me, his arm then around my neck. I took a deep breath and cuddled into his side. He ran his hand up and down my arm and I felt myself relax.

_Why didn't I feel this way with Lou, _I thought. _He is my boyfriend after all and Agent McQuaid is only someone I slept with once._

"Why don't you sleep," he suggested. "I'll wake you."

I smiled as I closed my eyes for a moment.

"I don't trust you with the responsibility," I confessed.

"And why is that," he laughed.

"Because...you'll take one look at me and think I look too peaceful."

"You're right. I would do that," he smiled. "But you need that fixed."

I followed his hand with my eyes as he pointed at my wound. As he pulled his hand away from my stomach, I turned my head and looked at him. When our eyes met, I knew there would be trouble.

For a moment, he and I stared at each other, nothing said or done. In that moment of silence, I melted like hot ice cream into his arms. I felt myself slipping away, into the place I had slipped into before I slept with him the first time.

He slowly leaned in, his eyes still focused on mine until we were only a few inches away. His eyes flickered to my lips and then met my gaze again before we touched. I felt electricity course through me as the pressure of his lips on mine sent a shock wave down my spine. I forgot about the pain in my abdomen when he put one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip. His tongue slithered over mine and a rush of heat flooded my lower extremities.

_Ding. Dong._

I drew in a quick breath as I pulled away from him.

As far as I knew, it wasn't Lou's day off, but there had been times in the past when he surprised me with a romantic visit. Being with Agent McQuaid at that time, I hoped it wasn't Lou at the door.

"You should probably get that," McQuaid said as the sheer sound of his baritone voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Right," I said as I looked from the door to him. "Guess I should."

I eased my way off the couch and felt the pain in my stomach return. I pressed my hand to the origin of my discomfort and proceeded to the front door.

As I reached for the handle, I took one last calming breath before yanking open the door to destruction.

"Sara?"

"Catherine! You're home," she slurred as she failed to stand still and hold herself upright.

"What are you doing here," I asked in disbelief as I came to the definite conclusion the she was drunk.

"Russell told me to go home," she slowly said and continued to slur.

"Well, this isn't your home," I tried to explain.

"I know that, silly. He told me to take care of you."

"Sara-"

"Is everything all right," McQuaid asked as he walked toward me.

"Uh, yeah-"

"Hey," Sara smiled. "I know you. You're that FBI guy that worked with us on that case a few weeks ago."

"Yes," he smiled at her before he looked back at me.

"You were always talking to Cat," she pointed at me. "You were flirting with her. ...Shame on you! She's got a boyfriend, you know."

He pursed his lips and dug his hands in his pockets.

"What are you doing here with her anyway," she asked.

I apologetically looked at him then looked back at Sara as she leaned against the door frame.

"I'm gonna go," he said to me.

I nodded and stared down at my feet.

"It was nice seeing you again, Sara," he said as he squeezed past her on his way out.

"Bye," she rudely said before she stumbled inside.

I grabbed her by her wrists and pulled her upright as she continued to fall forward.

She ran into me and the weight of her body pushed me back a few steps as I took one last look at McQuaid. He looked over his shoulder while I maneuvered Sara to my side and wrapped an arm around her waist to support her.

When he looked forward again as he approached his car, I sighed and shut the door while I dragged Sara with me.

"Okay," I started as I ushered her over to the couch. "Time to talk."

**_Thank you for the reviews so far. Don't forget to keep it up. ;)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm happy to give you the latest chapter, chapter 4 being in the works as you read this. My schedule is getting a little more complicated, especially because it's the holiday season. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up by Thanksgiving as a special treat to you readers. Until then, here's the newest installment. :) Enjoy.**_

"You're right," Sara flung a finger in my face. "We do need to talk. What was he doing here? Does Lou know about this?"

I shook my head and played dumb since I knew she wouldn't remember anything in the morning.

"Nothing's going on," I responded as I sat next to her on the couch. "With me, at least. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and leaned on me, her head on my shoulder. "I'm tired."

I furrowed my brow.

"I wanna go home. ...Bye," she said as he suddenly stood up.

"Whoa. You're not going anywhere," I hurried off the couch to stop her.

I cringed and placed my hand on my stomach for the millionth time that night as I reached out and grabbed Sara's wrist. She turned around in time to see me cringe and followed me as I fell toward the arm of the couch.

"Oh...that's right. You're hurt. It's my job to babysit you. I forgot."

She pulled my hand away from my stomach and lifted my shirt to inspect the damage once again.

"I don't need you to babysit," I said as she lightly ran her fingertips over my stitched up scar.

"You should be upstairs...resting in bed."

I shook my head again, but Sara already had her arm around my waist and hoisted me to my feet.

"I'm fine," I said as she continued to escort me to the stairs.

"Nope. I'm not buying it," she slurred a little less.

"Listen, if anyone needs to lay down it's you," I defended myself.

I tried to switch the roles between the human crutch and the damsel in distress, but, even drunk, Sara Sidle still beat me when it came to an extra strength grip.

"Hey, no, the only place you're going is into your bed to sleep the night away," she said as she pulled me closer.

As we reached the final step, Sara stumbled forward and it took everything I had to keep her from falling on her face.

"Ah," I yelped.

I felt the rest of my stitches ripping apart and couldn't stand the pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Look, this is why you should be in bed."

"Even if I had been in bed, you'd still be at my door and I'd have to get up to let you in anyway," I snapped.

She frowned and I immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out that way."

"It's okay," she said after a beat.

She took me by the hand and gently tugged me into my room. "You just need to rest."

I stared at Sara as she pulled me closer and closer to the bed.

"Why are you so hell bent on taking care of me?"

"Because," she started as she slowly crawled onto my bed and collapsed on her back.

She never finished her sentence, which left me to wonder.

"Because...what?"

I eased myself onto the bed with her and slowly fell onto my back.

She took a deep breath and sighed before she rolled onto her side and used her left arm to support her as she lifted my shirt again.

"That's one reason," she said as she pointed at the scar on my stomach.

She pulled my shirt up further, above my bra, and pointed at the scar on my chest.

"And that's the other," she concluded.

My jaw slowly dropped as I propped myself up on my elbows and looked from the scar to Sara.

She looked up at me with blood shot but soulful eyes and froze. In that moment, I slowly pulled down my shirt and kept eye contact with her.

I felt something between us then, but I couldn't understand it. For a second, I was breathless.

Sara draped her arm over my stomach and curled into my side. I gasped and immediately tensed up. I didn't know what to do.

"I should've known something was wrong. I should've turned back and asked you to come to my place for a few drinks. I knew something bad was going to happen that day and I did nothing."

"No, Sara. You couldn't have known," I said as sadness took control over my heart when I realized what she was talking about.

"I'm glad I shot him. I'm even happier knowing he's dead, but it doesn't make a difference after what he put you through."

"Sara, don't do this to yourself."

"Do what? I should've found you sooner."

"Don't beat yourself up. Peter Landau was a sick individual that succeeded at every twisted thing he set his mind to."

"Hmm," she hummed into my side as she nestled herself further against me.

After a beat, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as I leaned back and started to relax.

"I couldn't save you. ...I can't save my marriage. What's wrong with me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. When I opened my eyes again and stared at the ceiling, I ran my right hand through her hair and drifted into a worrisome sleep. 

I woke up the next morning with a warm body pressed against me and a moment of panic that forced my eyes out of my skull. I whipped my head to see the person I had managed to sleep with and recognized the shoulder length, brunette locks. The night before rushed back to me when I saw Sara sprawled out, half on top of me. Although, I didn't remember how Sara had managed to take over the right side of my body with one leg tangled between my calves and her right arm extended to the pillow beside my head. I was completely trapped underneath her arm alone.

"Sara," I softly said as not to rudely wake her.

I propped myself up on my elbows and attempted to sit up, but the weight of her leg kept me stationary. I gently shook her with my free arm, but she hardly moved an inch.

"Sara!"

"Mm," she groaned and rolled away from me.

I lightly laughed as I felt cool air hit my leg and sat up in the bed. I shook Sara again, but I only received another groan.

I shook my head and crawled out of bed. I headed straight for the closet and peeled off my shirt. As I stared at all my clothing options, out of the corner of my eye I noticed myself in the mirror. I took a better look at my reflection and walked toward the mirror with disgust. The only thing I saw were two large scars dominating what little I had left to show off in my less than youthful age.

I slid my fingertips over the scar that started from my collar bone and went down my chest and sighed. My eye sight drifted south and I stared with discomfort at the large scar across my stomach. I touched it with my fingertips as well and held back a few tears. I would never look the same again. I was damaged at best.

A hand startled me as it laced fingers with mine and caused me to look to my right.

Sara stood next to me with an expression of understanding on her face and I immediately relaxed. I didn't feel the need to have control for the moment, to appear strong and unaffected. The fact that she didn't even need words to make me feel safe didn't hurt either.

Then, the door bell rang.

I let go of Sara's hand and turned back toward the closet. I quickly grabbed the first clean shirt that caught my attention and slipped it on.

I brushed past Sara without saying a single word and trotted down the stairs to get the door. I flattened out my shirt with my hands and briefly messed with my hair before I answered and when I pulled back the door, I was surprised yet again to see who stood on the other side.

"Lou!"

"Hey," he said, concern written all over his face with several grocery bags in his hands. "I wanted to come see you last night, but I thought you would be sleeping by the time my shift ended. So...I'm here now."

He stepped inside without my permission and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I closed the door and followed him as he headed into the kitchen.

"I got you some soup and a few vegetables. I thought you'd like a good, home cooked meal, too, so...for dinner, I brought some steak, mashed potatoes and," he paused as he pulled something out of one of the bags he had placed on the counter top. "A dozen cupcakes."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said at a loss for words.

"Can I get in on those cupcakes," Sara asked as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Lou's eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder at her.

"Oh," I said as I looked behind me at Sara then back at Lou.

"Sara," Lou said with surprise. "That's your car out front?"

"Yeah," she said as she looked between Lou and me. "Uh, I had the night off and thought I'd check in on Catherine."

"Oh. Okay," he said before he popped open the plastic cupcake container. "Have at it."

She walked around me and stood on the opposite side of the counter from Lou. Lou offered her a cupcake, which she soon accepted over the counter, and Sara immediately licked the icing she collected during the transfer off her finger.

I stood there in a physical triangle and tried to piece together the explanation behind why I felt odd.

"Catherine," Lou called to me with a confused expression. "You zone out or something?"

"Huh? Um, yeah. Sorry. I'm a little scattered lately," I replied.

"He asked if you'd already eaten," Sara said as she leaned on her forearms on the counter, a bit more icing missing from her cupcake.

"No," I answered.

"Do you want to go out to eat somewhere or-"

"Actually, I need to see the doctor."

Sara sprang away from the counter and came straight over to me.

"That's right. Your stitch," she said as she remembered.

"What," Lou asked, obviously lost.

"She pulled the same stitch from a few nights ago. She needs to get it re-stitched."

"Oh," he jumped into action as well. "We can take my car."

Sara guided me toward Lou and Lou took my hand as he helped me out the front door.

"It's not like I'm pregnant. I can handle getting into a car," I spoke up.

Sara shut the door as Lou and I made our way down the slanted driveway to his car, but when I looked over my shoulder, she still stood on the porch.

"You guys should go. I really need to get home," she said.

"All right," Lou responded.

"Wait," I softly spoke as I continued to look over my shoulder while Lou hustled me into the car.

Sara looked at me as she reached her own car with eyes that spoke volumes of sorrow and regret. Just when I thought I had her figured out, she showed up at my place drunk and threw me for a loop. 

After getting my stitches fixed for the second time in three days, I was returned to my boyfriend with a warning to be more careful in my fragile condition.

"Thanks, Doctor, I'll do my best," I said as Lou stood up to greet the two of us.

Just because I said I would do my best didn't mean I wasn't going to go home and bust another one just as quickly, though. I decided to bet against myself and predicted I would end up in the hospital again within the next twenty-four hours.

"Thank you again for seeing her, Doctor," Lou said as he extended his hand for a shake.

The doctor shook his hand and smiled.

"I'm happy to help. Miss Willows is an excellent patient. Though, I don't want to see too much of her," the doctor held his smile and looked at me.

I forced a smile and met his gaze.

"Try to wait until your check up next week before coming back here, all right?"

"Got it," I continued to force a smile.

"Until then," he said with a small wave and walked away.

Lou and I made our way to the exit, his hand on the small of my back as we walked.

"Do you think you'll actually listen to him this time," Lou asked as we made it to the parking lot.

"It's not a matter of listening, Lou," I pushed.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he pressed.

"And I don't want to have to deal with these stitches, but sometimes we're a little late for things to go our way."

He frowned and pulled me to a stop in front of his car.

"Is there something you want to talk about," he asked with concern.

"No," I sternly answered.

"Something you need to talk about," he asked as he pushed the subject.

"No," my voice started to waver.

"Catherine, I'm tired of you always having to act all high and mighty, like you're untouchable. You really aren't invincible. It's time to let people in."

I scoffed and shook my head.

"I learned I wasn't untouchable not too long ago, Lou. I think I've outgrown your little speech," I angrily said.

He shook his head as I tried to walk away and grabbed my forearm. He pulled me back toward him and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Catherine. I don't know what game you're playing and what sick satisfaction you're getting out of it, but I need you to talk to me," he pleaded.

"That's all you want from me?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Do you want me to talk about how I was helpless for hours? About how I was stripped of my confidence? About how the knife felt when it punctured my skin? Or do you want me to talk about how you weren't even there when they found me?

Or how about the way it makes me feel to think about that night? The fact that I can't even close my eyes without replaying every painful second of the attack. What do you want me to talk about, Lou? I've got a lot to talk about, but you know why I don't talk about it? ...Because I don't want anyone to hear me. I want to be left alone. I want to know that no one wants a damn thing from me because I don't have anything left to give!"

I didn't even realize I had started crying until I tasted the tears that poured out of me after my meltdown.

Lou stared at me with his jaw on the ground, speechless for the first time in our relationship. He wasn't the only one to stare, though, as several on-lookers passed through the parking lot and in and out of the hospital's front doors. I took a look around at the groups of people staring then looked back at Lou. He furrowed his brow, but still couldn't form any words.

I shook my head and walked away.

"Hey, where do you think you're going," Lou called out, finally able to speak.

"Home," I yelled as I pulled out my cell phone.

"You're not walking home," I heard him start to chase after me.

I turned around and sighed as I lifted the phone to my ear, the number I wanted to call already dialed.

"You can't stop me even if I did walk," I said as the line connected me. "Hey. Can you come pick me up?"

Lou stared at me like he had seen a ghost.

"I'm at the hospital about ten minutes from the lab," I explained. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

I hung up and continued through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. I didn't look back and didn't hear Lou follow me. 

"Thanks for the ride, Russell," I looked ahead at the road.

"You're welcome," he said as he smoothly operated his silver hybrid.

"Why don't you tell me about Peter Landau," Russell asked me as I navigated him to my house.

"What's there to tell," I answered.

"Oh, come on. I know what Sara's report said and I was there to track the case myself, but, uh, I don't know what it was like from your perspective."

"Sara doesn't deserve to be jerked around. She should be out in the field and you know it."

"We're not talking about Sara, Catherine."

"We might as well be," I said before I turned to look at him. "She's the one who saved my life."

"Yeah, that's true. Listen, I don't want to pry, but I'm going to."

"That makes no sense," I contorted my face in a fit of frustration.

"Catherine-"

"I don't want to talk about him," I interrupted.

"You don't want to talk about why I had to pick you up from the hospital, you don't want to talk about Landau. What do you want to talk about?"

I sighed and looked out the passenger side window.

"You're going to make a left at the light," I flatly said as I carelessly pointed at the next intersection.

"Clearly, Sara was wrong about you," he softly spoke.

"Excuse me," I asked out of outrage and whipped around to look at him.

"Well, she said you were ready to go back to work, but that's not case, is it," he stated.

"I'm more than ready."

"You haven't even gone to see a counselor. You need to pass the psych evaluation before I can let you back on any cases."

"I'm aware of what I need to do."

"Then tell me about Landau."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, which made me feel like my nineteen year old daughter, Lindsey.

After making the turn at the light, I looked at the familiar neighborhood I recognized as home. Too bad it didn't feel like home anymore.

It didn't matter that I was attacked plenty of miles away from my street. I still felt vulnerable wherever I went if I was alone. I knew Lou would keep me company and I learned not too long ago that Agent McQuaid would be there for me, but even with them by my side, I felt more alone than I'd ever felt in my life. My late ex-husband, the infamous Eddie Willows, didn't even come close to the amount of loneliness Lou and McQuaid caused me. That said a lot since Eddie was usually either drugged out of his mind, sleeping with a zillion other women, or passed out in a drunken stupor.

"The house with a wide front porch and slanted driveway," Russell brought me out of my thoughts. "That's it, right?"

"Yeah," I shakily answered, disturbed by my revelations. "Thanks again for picking me up."

"No problem," he said as he pulled into my driveway. "I just hope next time the person that dropped you off doesn't abandon you."

"I abandoned him," I hesitantly informed him as he came to a stop.

I opened the door and eased my way out with a hand to my stomach to ensure all my stitches were still in tact.

"Hey, Catherine," I called up to me as I put my hand on the top corner of the door.

I turned around and bent down.

"I'm sure he was only trying to help."

"Thanks for the advice," I flatly said before I stood and started to shut the door.

"And, Catherine," he called out again.

I blew out a sigh and bent down as though it were a major chore.

"Sara's not working because she hasn't passed her psych evaluation."

"Yeah, right. If that's some kind of ploy to get me to talk to the department shrink, it's not going to work. I know for a fact that she took it last week."

"Yeah, she took it and yet, she still can't work. Explain that."

"What? Are you saying she failed?"

"I'm saying you two have a lot more in common than I imagined when I first started working here."

My jaw slowly started to drop as I shut the door. Russell wasted no time and drove off, which left me to question what really happened that night I was attacked.

**_Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. In fact, write a review and give me some feedback. It always makes my day. :) _**


	4. Chapter 4

_**As promised, another chapter before the holiday. Unfortunately, this will probably be the last chapter for the week, but know that I will try my hardest to get the next one out just as quickly as the others before it. Enjoy. :)  
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Sara shot up in bed with wide eyes, her tank top drenched in sweat. She pushed back her hair with shaky hands and sucked in a deep breath. Too many images came to mind whenever she closed her eyes and every bad dream took its grueling toll on her in their own twisted ways.

She attempted to regulate her erratic breathing. She also tried to compose herself before she got to her feet, but the images still flashed before her as through it was that night all over again. They played like a movie as she headed out to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She wondered when visions of her past would stop melting into visions of the present so she could sleep for once.

She truthfully hadn't slept much since nineteen seventy-four, but only one person other than her knew that and that person lived in San Francisco. She didn't want to talk about it then, or even now, but that one person had a certain hold over her. That one person knew how to convince her to talk and that one person once used to be her partner.

That didn't matter to her at that moment, though. The only thing she could think about was the growing need to bury her feelings and repressed memories, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't pretend the night they found Catherine wasn't hell for her. She couldn't pretend it didn't remind her of her childhood when she wasn't sure she'd make it through the night. She couldn't pretend she hadn't felt something other than fear as she searched high and low for the redhead.

She slowly tipped back her water and chugged it as though she hadn't drank in days and clutched the hem of her tank top as a way to gain control over herself. It didn't seem to work as she made her way to the air conditioning control panel and cranked it to sixty degrees. She tugged on her tank top as she walked away from the panel and used the backside of her free hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

Her phone buzzed and caused her to jump out of her skin.

She took a deep breath and relaxed as much as she possibly could. She grabbed her cell off the kitchen counter and looked at the digital read out. She sighed and answered it.

"Sidle."

"Miss Sidle," a man on the line started. "I'd like to reschedule you for another psych evaluation if you've got the time."

She rolled her eyes.

"No, thanks."

"I know you understand the repercussions if you don't pass, Miss Sidle, so why don't you make another appointment with me?"

"I don't think so."

"I've already spoken to your supervisor-"

"I don't care. I don't have to go back to work."

"But you want to."

She didn't respond.

"Sara, let's be realistic," he started. "You want to be back at the lab whether you'll admit it to me or not. The only way you can do that is if you discuss that night with me. What's so hard about that when you should know I'm not here to judge anyone?"

"If that's what you think this is about, you're one of the worst shrinks I've encountered in my lifetime."

"I'm familiar with your file."

She squeezed her eyes shut at that comment and, with a tight jaw, slightly opened her mouth but said nothing.

"Come in to see me. Are you available today?"

"No. I'm out of town," she lied.

"When can you see me?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," she said as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Don't make this-"

She hung up.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her feelings. She figured if she couldn't pass the test the first time, it wasn't worth taking a second time.

Truth be told, that's how she felt throughout school, which is why she always pushed herself harder than she should've to ensure she got it right. She couldn't stand to fail at anything and yet, all her years of hard work went down the drain within a couple of weeks. Granted, she started falling apart before Catherine was abducted, but she hadn't really processed things until she had been abducted.

She shook her head, ran her hand through her hair and checked the time on her phone. It read six-thirty AM. She'd been asleep two hours at best and knew she wouldn't be able to sleep again until later that evening.

She sucked in a deep breath, raised her fist, and pounded it against the counter top. She felt her hand go numb for a few seconds before the stinging pain set in, though she didn't outwardly acknowledge it. She only unclenched her fist and walked back into her bedroom.

She selected an outfit for the day and pulled out clean running clothes. She placed her outfit on her bed and threw on her running clothes. She tightly tied the laces on her sneakers and pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. She stuffed her apartment keys in the right pocket of her mesh shorts and took nothing else.

The sound of keys turning in the front door lock caused me to look up from the pot of boiling water and stare at the front hallway. The door opened and Lindsey walked in. I lightly smiled as I saw her long, flowing ponytail sashay as she turned to close the door and felt a small portion of happiness surge through my aching body.

"Mom, are you ready," she called to me as she headed toward the stairs.

"Yeah," I answered as I turned off the stove and headed toward the hall.

"Oh," she whipped her hair around and looked at me as I made myself visible in the kitchen archway. "Great."

The smile on her face brightened mine and helped more happiness fill me as an attempt to heal my fractured soul.

"I'm so glad I don't have class today," she said.

"Me too," I honestly replied.

She smiled again.

"I'm glad to hear it. Sounds like you're ready to open yourself up to the rest of the world."

"Wow. What happened to you? I sent you off to college only a year ago and now you're the one that knows best?"

"I got smart. Nice to know your hard earned money is going toward something productive, isn't it," she stated as she widened her smile.

"Yeah, but we both know that money is Sam's hard earned money."

"Doesn't matter to me. You're still working. Just because he made us a few zeros richer didn't change us, right?"

"Right," I tried to sound convincing.

"Besides, we're related to him. Your dad, my grandpa. We didn't ask for it. He gave it to us. That's not something we should feel guilty about, right?"

"I agree," I nodded after a beat, a beat spent recalling the memory of him getting shot right in front of me.

"Okay, enough small talk," she shook her head.

I stared at her with wide eyes, an expression that questioned her intent behind her words.

"Not that I don't enjoy small talk with you, but we really should get going. It's time to shop," she said with another perky smile.

I shook my head with a smile, grabbed my purse off the table in the hallway, and followed her out the door. Within twenty minutes we were at the outlet mall in search for several things.

"We're not leaving here until you find four new outfits," Lindsey started. "As for me, I'm gonna get a new pair of shoes, one new outfit, and the perfect purse that goes with every occasion."

I rolled my eyes with a sincere smile that served as a gateway for a tiny laugh.

"I guess you've got things all figured out, don't you," I said.

"Maybe a little," she joked. "Okay, which store do you want to check out first?"

"Any store. You lead the way, fashionista," I smiled again.

Thank God for Lindsey. Without her, I was sure I wouldn't have been out shopping, but rather sitting at home with my face buried in a tub of ice cream.

"I'm so glad you said that," she beamed. "I know the perfect place for you."

Two hours and forty minutes later, I had two outfits and a mani pedi. I felt fresh, ready to start life over again as though Peter Landau never even existed.

"So...what do you think? One more store?"

"If I go to another store, I know for a fact my feet will fall off," I tiredly confessed.

"All right. Call it quits?"

"Yes, but I could go for some food right about now."

"Great minds think alike."

As I watched my daughter all day, I felt much better and even managed to forget about the hideous scars that marked my body. If there was ever a day to be so thankful, it would be today.

We grabbed a bite to eat on our way home and shared a few new stories about our lives since the last time we had a normal conversation. We even reminisced about her childhood as we walked through the front door. Of course, when it came time to let go, we both had a problem with saying goodbye.

"You know, I could stay for dinner. Lou told me he brought you a steak," Lindsey piped up.

"When did you talk to Lou," I asked out of shock.

"On my way over here. He called and asked if I was coming to see you today and told me about dinner. He also didn't want to tell me why he couldn't make it for you himself and refused to put you in the middle of it. I swear, mom, you're heading for ex-husband number two before you even get remarried."

"It's complicated, Linds."

"I'm not judging you, but I am warning you."

I stared down at my feet and attempted to hold back a couple tears.

"I'm tired of seeing you throw away good relationships. That's all," she continued.

"Lindsey, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about my relationships. Worry about you," I firmly said. "I might not be sure of a lot of things right now, but that's one thing I can promise you I'm sure of no matter what's going on in our lives."

She nodded.

"I know, but you're really starting to scare me. You don't want to talk to anyone, you don't want to see anyone, and don't think I haven't heard about you denying that anything could possibly be wrong with you. You were abducted by the state's most wanted serial killer and live to relive the trauma every day."

"Thanks. That really cheered me up," I sarcastically said.

"It's not supposed to cheer you up. I know you still see me as your little girl, but I've grown up and not over night. It's been a long time coming and I can see you're hurt. Talk about it. Whatever it is that's turning you into the Ice Queen, talk about it!"

"You really have grown up, haven't you?"

"And I have you to blame," she smiled as she placed a hand on my shoulder.

I smiled back, though half of my heart wasn't in it, and my hand briefly rested on top of hers.

"I want you to stay," I started. "But you should go."

"If you're worried about my test tomorrow, I studied before I got here. Not to mention, I've been studying since the instructor gave us the material. Plus, I'll still have plenty of time to study after dinner."

"You're intentionally making this decision harder for me, aren't you?"

"It runs in the family," she shrugged with a half smirk.

"Fine. Stay for dinner, but you have to promise me you'll ace the test," I pointed a warning finger at her.

"I promise," she said as her hand slipped off my shoulder.

"Good. We'll skip the steak."

"What?"

"I know you've grown up, but I also know you still need some work when it comes to the grill."

She rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Fine. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then we can make something else for dinner," she said as she headed toward the guest bath.

I smiled to myself and stared blankly ahead as she walked away.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I checked the caller ID.

"Hello," I answered as I turned my back on the guest bathroom.

"Hey," he gruffly said. "I wanted to call to make sure my manhood is truly still in tact."

"What are you talking about, McQuaid?"

"The other day," he started, his voice conjuring images of a muscled man in the wilderness, a bit of a turn on for me. "When I told you about my fiancee, I must have sounded weak."

"What? No, if you'd have reacted any differently I would worry, but it's normal to feel like that."

"So you don't think any less of me?"

"Of course not."

"Good. How's your friend?"

"My friend?"

"Yeah, the tall brunette that came over drunk. What was her name again?"

"Sara," I answered, though I wasn't talking to him when I said it. It was almost a mechanical response as I slipped into an odd trance from the thought of her.

"Yeah, that's it. How's Sara?"

"Huh? Oh, she's fine. She crashed on the couch and left the minute she woke up."

"Okay. I felt bad about leaving like that, but I felt worse for staying."

"Don't worry about it. I understand," I casually said.

"Well, uh, I should get to the point. I really called you because I wanted to know if you have any dinner plans."

"Actually," I started as guilt set in about my daughter being in the other room. "I do."

"Oh. Okay. I guess we'll have to get together another night then."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Catherine?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you said the night we spent together was a one time thing, but...I'd really like to get to know you. I'm confident you'll like what you see when you actually see me with my clothes on."

I heard the bathroom door open and panicked.

"Sure. I've got to go, though. We'll talk later, okay? Bye."

I hung up without a second thought and turned to see Lindsey approach me.

"Who was that?"

"Uh, Sara," I quickly created a lie. "She wanted to apologize for not calling me back."

"Oh. Well, I know you don't want me messing with the grill so I thought I'd surprise you for dinner."

"What do you mean surprise," I panicked a little more.

"You'll see," she grinned.

I furrowed my brow. I didn't know what she was up to, but I feared her surprise would possibly cause me a heart attack.

Running helped Sara clear her mind as well as put her back in shape, but it didn't do much good that day. Though her run had been physically productive, she still couldn't get the images out of her head. It didn't matter that she passed a dozen trees, a young couple kissing on a bench, cute kids playing in the grass, and a woman around Catherine's age jogging with her dog. Past and present were hot on her heels and she knew she couldn't outrun them.

She jogged into her apartment and peeled off her shirt before she turned to shut the door. One of her hallway neighbors walked out in time to watch her strip down to her bra and the moment the two locked eyes, she stood up straight.

"Hi," she awkwardly greeted.

"Hey," her male neighbor lightly chuckled as he took a moment to look her over.

"Sorry, I should've waited until I closed the door," she nervously laughed.

"No, no. Who doesn't want to see their neighbor half naked before they head off to work," he rhetorically asked with a country boy smile.

She let out another nervous laugh.

"I'm glad I could make your morning brighter," she strangely started to flirt.

"Brighter? Try illuminated. I thought I was going to have the worst day today, but then you did a little strip tease for me. I couldn't be happier right now," he grinned.

"Please tell me you don't mean physically happy," she closed her eyes and twisted her face into a partially disgusted expression.

He laughed.

"Strictly emotional," he continued to smile. "You know...I had my thoughts about what 12B would look like. I didn't imagine you."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "Most of the words that come out of my mouth are."

"Good to know."

"Well," he started. "Asking this question is probably going to make me late for work and you'll probably slam the door on me, but what is 12B's name?"

He slowly approached the door, one foot in front of the other, with a steady swagger.

She looked over his shoulder.

"I think a much more interesting question is what 11B's name is."

She couldn't comprehend why she wanted to keep flirting with him let alone why she was even flirting with him in the first place, but she felt good doing it and she wasn't about to stop feeling good.

"All right," he lightly chuckled again as he took a split second to look down before meeting her eyes again.

He stood inches away from her, one hand in his pocket, the other made its way to the door frame beside her.

"You got me," he continued. "I'm Alex."

"I don't get a last name?"

"I don't get a first name?"

She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes.

"Sara."

His smile widened as a door down the hall opened. Both looked in the direction of the noise and saw another one of their neighbors leaving. The neighbor peered in their direction and furrowed their brow as they stared at the compromising position the two were in.

Sara shifted and Alex took a small step back to give her the space she needed to readjust herself.

She cleared her throat and briefly avoided eye contact with him. When she looked up at him, he grinned as though he wasn't ashamed.

"I think I should let you go to work," Sara finally piped up.

"I can afford to be a few minutes late. You?"

"A few minutes leads to twenty minutes, which leads to an hour, which leads to no good. We should get back to our daily routines."

"Whatever you say," he said as he pushed off the door frame and took a couple steps back. "But you should know that after meeting you, 12B, I don't want to go back to my daily routine if it doesn't include you."

He winked before he swiftly turned on his heels and walked away.

Sara was speechless. Her mouth was open wide enough to catch fish in and she didn't move. She couldn't. Another thing she couldn't do was admit she had a problem.

Reality kicked in and she closed her mouth as she looked down at her sweaty shirt in her hand. She frowned and turned back into her apartment. She closed the door and locked it before she headed toward her bedroom.

Her phone vibrated against the kitchen table and dragged her away from the path to her room.

She picked up her cell and saw she had five new text messages along with a voice mail and two missed calls.

She cocked her head and furrowed her brow as she looked at the phone. She then peered up at her microwave and noticed she'd only been gone for about an hour, but she immediately returned her attention to her cell and read through her text messages.

Two were from Gil Grissom, her lucky husband, and the other three were from Greg. Grissom only wanted her to know his progress toward receiving a second research grant, but Greg had too much to say.

"Hey, I don't know if you'd be interested, but I need a date for a meeting with my publisher tonight," Greg's first message read. "You don't have to say yes, but it would mean a lot to me."

His second message said, "You just have to show up, but let me know ahead of time if you'll go. I'm telling you! My agent thinks bringing a date will help sell the book. She also thinks the book is good enough to sell itself, but a little push wouldn't hurt."

His third message gave her a location, time, and dress code to follow.

She figured he wanted a response as soon as possible so she composed a new message addressed to him.

"I'll go with you. Don't worry about the publisher. You'll sell the book soon enough and when the time is right, it'll be on the best seller's list because it was meant to be."

She then checked her missed calls. One from Vartann and the other from Lindsey, neither of which she expected to call.

She played her voice mail to make sure she wasn't needed for something dire, especially if Lindsey had been the one to leave the message.

"Hey," the voice mail started. "It's Lindsey. I'm supposed to be going to see my mom tomorrow and I have a feeling I'm going to need reinforcements. Can you call me when you get the chance? Thanks."

She instantly deleted the message and searched through her contacts for Lindsey's name. Once she found it, she called back and waited for the blonde to answer. Four rings later and she was greeted with a familiar voice.

"Hey, did you get my message," Lindsey asked.

"Yeah, just now. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm with my mom now, but when I called, I thought she could use the company."

"And now?"

"Now I know she needs the company. Do you think you can swing by for dinner? Say six o'clock?"

"I can try, but I just made other plans with someone."

"It's okay. If you can come by tonight at all, do it. I doubt dinner will be ready at six anyway."

"Okay. Does your mom know about this?"

"I didn't even know about this until I got here. We're about to go shopping, but it doesn't seem like she wants to go out."

"I'm sure she does, Lindsey, but you know your mom. Certain things make her want something more than others."

"Right," she flatly said. "Well, I hear she has steak, but I remember my mom told me not too long ago that you're a vegetarian, right?"

"Yes."

"I'd hate to ask you, but on top of trying to make it out tonight, can you bring a vegetarian dish? Something you like, but might help my mom feel better? Like what cranberry juice does for a urinary tract infection."

"Sure, but I have a question."

"What's that."

"Are you studying to be a doctor because last time I checked, you didn't have much of an interest in the medical field."

She laughed.

"My roommate had an infection last week."

"Ah."

"Anyway, text me when you're on your way over. Or text me if you can't make it after all."

"All right."

"Great. Hopefully, I'll see you later."

"Back at you."

"Bye," Lindsey said.

"Bye."

Sara hung up and took a moment to process what happened. She shook her head as she furrowed her brow, but took the phone into her room with her.

She headed straight for her bathroom and tossed her phone on her bed while she dumped her dirty shirt on the floor.

As the warm water cascaded down her sore body, she closed her eyes and tried to stay sane, if she could even be considered sane anymore. Unfortunately, she had all too much on her mind. In fact, she managed to simultaneously think of at least four different things, bits and pieces of her memories flashing and overlaying other memories.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the next set of images burned their way into her retinas.

Cigarette burns, being pushed down a moderate flight of stairs, bruised ribs, nights spent crying into the early morning. Catherine. Finding Catherine pinned under a deranged killer, visiting Catherine while she was battered and unconscious at the hospital. Gil. Seeing him during her vacation time, spending less and less time with him as the days go on, knowing he still talks to Heather Kessler, former dominatrix turned sex therapist. Alex. Flirting with her next door neighbor, not regretting standing there topless in front of him as they met for the first time, the realization that she hadn't worn her wedding band when she met him.

"Ah," she yelled as she rammed her fist into the tiled shower wall.

She started to breath heavily as she tried to regain control over her heart and mind, but she couldn't do it. Her past was taking over whether she wanted to admit it or not. It didn't matter that she left the lab a few years ago to deal with the same problems she was currently facing and, even though she took the time to deal with it then, she still needed more time to heal now.

_**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think! I'm dying to receive feedback. ;)  
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	5. Chapter 5

"_I see you've got quite a few complaints, Sara," the department psychologist started. "Mainly dealing with your behavior. Would you like to explain why these complaints were made?"_

"_I don't know," Sara shrugged. "They must have felt it was such a problem that it needed to be documented."_

"_Do you feel it was worth documenting?"_

_She rolled her eyes._

"_If I say no, you'll think I'm deflecting and have a much greater problem than you anticipated. If I say yes, you'll write that I have self-esteem issues that lead to my inability to truly connect with the people I work with as boldly displayed as my poor behavior."_

"_I think you're deflecting no matter what you answer."_

"_We both know I'm here to talk about the shooting so why don't we drop the bullshit about all the issues I've been written up for in the past and actually discuss me killing someone."_

"_You're right. You killed someone. How does that make you feel?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_Nothing?"_

_She nodded._

"_I don't feel anything. I did my job and brought down a dangerous threat. He would've killed her if I hadn't shot him."_

"_For the record, the her you're referring to is...?"_

"_Catherine Willows," she said after she puffed out a sigh._

"_Okay," he said as he nodded and jotted down a short note. "Would you say you felt you had no other choice but to shoot?"_

"_I told you he would've killed her. One second later and she wouldn't have made it to the hospital."_

"_So you were protecting her."_

_She shook her head and looked around the room. _

"_Yeah, I was protecting her," she confessed. "Anyone would've done it."_

"_The report says Captain Brass was standing next to you and he didn't pull the trigger."_

_She scoffed._

"_If you're going to make this about some underlying explanation for why I'm aggressively protective, don't."_

"_I find it interesting you think I'm attacking you."_

"_Of course you find that interesting. All shrinks do."_

"_Do you feel threatened by my questions?"_

"_No," she raised her voice as she resorted to communicating through the use of staccato._

"_You seem agitated."_

"_Ask me anything, but don't read into some psychobabble bullshit about what I'm saying compared to what I actually mean. I shot a man. It killed him. I'm not sorry I did pull the trigger. I don't spend my nights staying up thinking about the guy. I sleep just fine knowing he got what he deserved."_

"_What about your coworker? Catherine."_

"_What about her," she sighed as she tried to calm down. _

"_Do you sleep just fine, as you said, knowing she suffered through a brutal beating, left alone in the hands of a man who treated all his victims like disposable junk?"_

_She circled one thumb around the other as her hands rested in her lap._

"_Sara?"_

_She avoided eye contact and clamped her jaw shut, tightened it._

"_Does it bother you that she had to go through that," he persisted. _

"_What is this really about because you have me a little confused," she finally piped up._

"_I want to know how you feel," he answered._

_She shook her head and continued to avoid eye contact. _

_After a beat, the psychologist took a deep breath and broke the silence._

"_Okay. We don't have to talk about all of this now. If you come back by the end of the week, we can get you back to work in no time."_

_He stood up and maneuvered his clipboard under his arm. Sara soon followed his lead and got to her feet._

_They didn't say anything more to each other and walked out on a note of awkward silence, so many things left unspoken between them._

"Sara?"

She shook her head and turned to look at the person who had called her name.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Greg. I've been spacey lately," she shrugged off the memory of her psych evaluation.

"Okay," he nodded though he only halfheartedly believed her. "Well, dinner's on me so...please eat light?"

She smiled.

"Don't worry," she chuckled. "I'll go easy on your wallet."

"Thank you," he whispered.

Sara laughed as a host appeared at the podium in front of them.

"Hello, Mr. Sanders?"

"Yes, hello," Greg smiled and nodded.

"Your table is ready."

"Thank you very much," he nervously stated as the host guided him and Sara into the restaurant dining room.

As Greg looked at the empty table the three of them approached, he clenched and unclenched his hands before wiped them on his black slacks and wet his lips.

"Your table," the host said as he extended his arm to showcase the intimate and intimidating table. "Here are your menus. Your server will be right with you."

Greg and Sara smiled and gave a single nod to the host as he politely smiled in response and walked back to the podium.

"I can't do this," Greg said as he spun on his heels and tried to follow the host away from the table.

Sara laughed again and stopped him before he could take a second step.

"Relax, Greg," she continued to smile.

With one hand on his chest and the other on his arm, she spun him back around and forced him into a chair. "You'll nail this."

"How do you know? This is the third time I've had to pitch the book to her!"

"Don't worry," she rubbed his arm as she took the seat next to him. "If it doesn't go well, I'm here. You still have me at the end of the day and I'm going to keep telling you the truth."

"Which is...?"

"Your book is going to get published, somehow, sometime."

"I want that time to be now. I've waited too long for this."

"Greg, Greg. I know you and I know how passionate you are about this so even if things don't turn out the way you hope today, you're not going to give up. You shouldn't give up."

He stayed quiet and left the two of them to listen to the clanking of the utensils and whispers of several conversations around them.

"Yeah...okay."

"Greg Sanders," a cheerful voice said from behind them.

They turned around and saw a smiling woman approach their table.

"I'm so glad to see you again. I hope you took my advice on the book."

"I did. Thank you," he started. "I just wish I didn't have to change so much."

"I know, but it's a cut throat business," she said as she took her seat. "And since you didn't experience any of this story first hand, it makes it harder to credit any of it and keep the material from being dry. Let me see what you have so far."

"Good evening," their waiter smiled as he stopped in front of the table. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Lemon water please," the publicist gave her order.

"A water is fine with me,"Greg said as he gently placed the manuscript on the table.

"Uh, I'll take a Sprite," Sara completed the drink order.

The waiter nodded and made his way to the kitchen.

"So how've you been since our last talk," Greg's publicist asked as she flipped through the manuscript.

"Fine. Overworked, but fine."

Sara smiled at him before she focused her attention on the publicist.

"Hopefully being overworked worked in your favor," she said with a hint of a smile and started to read an excerpt.

"I'm with you on that," he confessed.

Sara reached out and squeezed his knee under the table for support. They looked at each other and let the silence between them speak for itself.

"Well," the publicist piped up. "I'd say so far it has."

Greg's jaw slowly dropped until she looked up and smiled at him. He smiled back and took Sara's hand in his under the table. 

When the doorbell rang, I didn't know what to expect partly because it seemed every time I answered the door, someone I didn't ever think would come over showed up, and partly because my daughter wanted to surprise me for dinner. I couldn't imagine what Lindsey had in store for me, but as I approached the door, I had this sickening feeling it wasn't something I'd enjoy.

I pulled open the door and saw Lou smile at me with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

"Hey," he greeted as he stepped forward and chastely kissed me.

"Hi," I forced a smile to be polite. "Is this my surprise?"

Lindsey walked out of the kitchen with a wide smile spread across her face.

"Part of it," she answered.

I felt my chest tighten as I lost the ability to breathe. I clenched and unclenched my fists to help me calm down, but it didn't work.

"I need some water," I said as I made a bee line to the kitchen.

"Are you okay," Lou asked as he followed me.

"Yeah," I tried to shrug it off before I tipped back a glass of cold water. "Just thirsty."

Lou raised an eyebrow.

"Is it me or do you say that a lot?"

"If I do, I apologize, but it's true," I lied.

"Okay," he let it go after a beat.

"Lou," Lindsey joined him and I in the kitchen. "You want to help me fix dinner while my mom rest in front of the TV?"

I rolled my eyes. Even though Lou's presence put me on edge, I still hated the idea of sitting on the couch for another minute more than having him around.

"Sure," Lou answered as he set the bouquet on the counter.

He looked at me by way of silently telling me he knew something was wrong, but he joined Lindsey all the same as the two of them headed to the back porch.

I sighed and leaned on the kitchen counter for necessary support. I took a moment to think and came to the conclusion that I needed a drink.

I spun on my heels and bent down before I pulled open a bottom cabinet. I reached back behind a blender and an old coffee machine and grabbed the neck of a friend I hadn't seen in a while.

I placed my friend, a bottle of whiskey, on the same counter I previously used for support. I retrieved a Scotch glass I hadn't used since I was seeing that construction worker over eight years ago, when Eddie was still alive.

I filled the glass and immediately tipped it back. I felt the amber colored liquid burn the back of my throat and squinted before I could smile. As I smiled, I lost sight of the present and delved into my repressed memories and feelings.

"Oh boy," I softly said to myself.

I filled the glass again and downed the entire drink in three seconds. The second time around, the whiskey burned even more. I felt my mind slipping into a dwelling state of depression. I knew drinking wasn't the answer to my problems, but I wished it would numb me. Instead, it heightened my problems and brought my pain to the surface. In fact, if someone scratched me, I would bleed anger and sorrow, everything connected to that one night.

I stared at the bottom of my glass and smelled the lingering scent of the whiskey. I remembered the way he smelled like a mixture of alcohol. The combination made him even more putrefying with his prickly beard, yellow teeth, blood shot eyes, twitchy hands, and chapped lips. It all flashed before my eyes and I felt nauseous.

I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut to calm my stomach. When I exhaled, I opened my eyes and felt a little better, but I knew it wouldn't last.

Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket and revealed that McQuaid was calling.

I rolled my eyes and answered.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?"

"Usually, it wouldn't be, but there's a lot going on right now," I tiredly said.

"Oh, do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

"Probably...but I don't have time."

"Fair enough...but promise me you'll call me later so you can get it all off your chest, okay?"

I softly sighed as not to be rude, though I should've been more aggressive to push him away.

"I promise."

"Good. I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"Okay. Bye."

I hung up and gripped the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb. More than needing a drink, I needed a break.

_Why couldn't I keep my libido in check_, I internally whined. 

"I'm going to use the ladies' room," the publicist smiled. "When I get back, I'd like to talk more about chapter seventeen."

She winked at Greg as she stood up and smiled at both of them before she turned toward the restroom.

Sara and Greg looked at each other and Sara smiled.

"See? I told you things will work out in their own time."

He smiled back.

"Thanks. I'm going to call Lily and let her know how it's going. She wants updates as soon as possible," he said as he stood, phone in hand.

"Catherine's mom Lily?"

"Yeah," Greg smiled. "She helped me with this book more than anything."

He started to head for the door.

Sara pursed her lips to minimize her smile, but it didn't help.

"Hey, Lily," she heard Greg exclaim as he moved further away from her.

She pulled out her phone to check the time and scrunched up her nose as she looked at the digital read out. She sighed before she opened the messaging menu on her phone and composed a new message.

"_Linds," _she started the text. _"I'll be able to make it tonight, but I don't I know when I'll get there. If it's past nine, don't wait up. I'll see your mom in the morning if that's the case."_

She sent the message and when she looked up, she spotted the publicist on her way back to the table.

"Where'd the author go," the publicist smiled and asked Sara.

"He stepped out to make a quick phone call," Sara explained.

"Oh, well I guess that leaves us time to talk," she continued to smile. "I don't know if Greg's told you, but I'm Kate Anderson."

She held out her hand and Sara shook it.

"I should have introduced myself earlier, but I'm usually pressed for time."

"I understand. It's okay."

"While we're here, why don't we talk a little about Greg," Kate suggested. "I know him through his writing, but how is he on a regular day?"

"What do you want me to tell you," Sara started. "He's a great guy. He'll have your back even if he doesn't know you'll have have his. He loves Vegas history and hasn't been able to get the idea of writing this book out of his head for the past four years. And the phone call he's making right now is to a woman that gave him her personal account of what happened in this book and yet, he considers her more of a friend than an informant."

"Wow. Sounds like a charmer," Kate lightly smiled.

Sara looked back at Greg as he continued to talk on the phone. He looked up and met her gaze seconds before she turned to face Kate again.

"He's one of the good ones," Sara smiled.

Kate smiled back.

"You sound found of him," she stated.

"I am. If I could've picked my brother when I was growing up, I would've picked him, which is why I'm here. This book means so much to him and I'd hate to see him leave empty handed tonight, but if the book deal isn't going to work out, the worst thing you can do is give him false hope."

Greg walked back in and slipped the phone into his pocket.

"Sorry. Lily was excited and had to hear everything verbatim."

Sara flashed her gap teeth as she smiled at Greg. As Greg took his seat, Kate cleared her throat and flipped through the manuscript again.

"As long as you hadn't run out on this dinner, it's okay. Now, chapter seventeen. There's a lot of good things to say about it as well as read in it. I'm happy to say this chapter alone could sell the book. But we've discussed the genre you'll be published under and I still think this book could use a little more voice. I know you weren't alive for most of the legends mentioned, but you're a humorous guy. Add a bit pf that humor and excitement to the stories each person mentioned in here has to be told. I will say this, though, the part about Mickey Dunn and Lois O'Neil were fantastic. The fact that the crime lab encountered them, especially in the manner they did, makes it even more entertaining."

Greg smiled.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said.

"Liked it is an understatement. In fact, saying I love it is an understatement. When you first showed me this book, it had a lot of potential. Now, it's almost ready to sell."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's going to be a long road ahead while I try and get this in circulation, but from what she's told me," Kate gestured to Sara. "I have no doubt you'll get through it."

She stood and extended her right hand. Greg held out his own and they shook on the next words Kate said.

"I'll call you to set up our next meeting," she smiled.

Sara smiled at Kate and the two shook hands as well.

"It was nice meeting you," Kate said.

"Likewise," Sara's smile widened.

"Greg, we'll talk," Kate said before she turned and left.

"Thanks," Greg said as she took off.

He then turned and widened his eyes as his jaw dropped.

"I'm on my way to being a published author," he exclaimed.

Sara smiled and nodded. The two of them gravitated toward each other and embraced.

"I'm happy for you," she said as she gave him a squeeze before she pulled away from the hug. "I'd stay and celebrate with you, but-"

"You were summoned to Catherine's. I know," he smiled. "Give her a hug for me?"

"Of course."

"Oh, and I'd be careful about spending too much time with her. The lab might start to talk," he winked.

She rolled her eyes with a light laugh. I'll keep that in mind," she sarcastically replied.

Greg grinned and waved goodbye.

"I'll see you later," he said.

"Yeah," she responded. "Hey, tell Lily hi for me."

He cocked his head with a small smirk and glimmer in his eyes that said, "Touche."

"No problem," he said.

"Good night, Greg."

"Goodnight, Sara."

Sara pulled out her phone and sent a new message to Lindsey.

"_On my way,"_ it read.

Within two minutes, Lindsey responded.

_"Great. Hopefully, my mom will feel better with you here."_

After a near thirty minute drive across town, Sara pulled up to the curb outside Catherine's place with a strange feeling in her gut. She took a deep breath and released it in a sigh before she cut the engine.

When she rang the doorbell, there was a silence in the moments to follow as she waited for someone to answer. It was a silence she hadn't expected, a silence that made her doubt her decision to be a part of Lindsey's plan.

The door opened and after a second, Lindsey popped out from behind it.

"Hey," Lindsey smiled. "I hope you don't mind, but I think my mom's getting hungry and we just pulled the steak off the grill. I thought if you were going to run late that maybe us meat eaters could enjoy our food before we all sat and ate with you."

"It's fine, Linds," she politely smiled back as she stepped inside. "Wait. _All_?"

Lindsey walked into the living room as Sara shut the door and followed her before receiving an answer.

"Mom," Lindsey said as she approached the couch.

Catherine turned to look at Lindsey and, upon seeing Sara, nearly lost her eyes as they attempted to jump out of their sockets and flee.

"Lindsey, how long did you want us to wait before serving dinner," Lou said as he joined everyone in the living room. "Oh. Hi, Sara."

"Hi," Sara nervously greeted with a small wave. 

"You invited Sara and you made steak," I furiously asked Lindsey in the kitchen as I made Sara and Lou wait in the living room.

Lindsey rolled her eyes.

"I checked with her before she came here and I even asked her about her favorite meal, which I also prepared. I've got it covered. Steak isn't the only thing on the menu," Lindsey explained.

I sighed.

"Fine, but enough surprises, okay?"

"Promise. This is the last one," she said.

"Okay," I whispered out of thankfulness before I headed back into the living room. "Let's eat."

Before I turned toward the dinning room table, I looked at Sara who squinted at me almost out of speculation.

I awkwardly spun around and took my seat at the head of the table. Lindsey brought out the plate of steak and Lou helped her as he fetched the meat-free portion of dinner. He set it on the table, away from the meat, and smiled at Sara as he seated himself at the opposite end of the table from me.

For the entire meal, a tense and awkward silence filled the air. I could barely muster up the courage to look at Lou. Sara and I had a small, non-verbal conversation as we attempted to avoid eye contact and I could tell the dinner greatly disappointed Lindsey.

Instead of enduring any more of the non-existent interaction between us four, I took it upon myself to clean the dishes.

Lindsey handed me her plate with a frown as she stared down at the sink.

I sighed.

"I'm sorry this isn't going the way you expected, Linds."

"I thought this would make you feel better and maybe I could get something nice out of it in return. Nothing big. Just a good feeling. Maybe even a little relief."

I frowned and set aside the dishes to give her a hug.

"Oh, Lindsey. I'm sorry. Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."

"But you're not. I wouldn't worry about you except you're not as talkative and smiley as you used to be. I know the healing process takes a while and people react to certain things differently, but I want to know when I'm going to get my old mom back."

Lindsey pulled out of the hug and looked at me with tear filled eyes for a moment before she walked away.

"Lindsey," I weakly called after her with a heart full of worry to match the glass full of vodka next to me on the counter.

I sighed and shook my head before I grabbed a plate out of frustration and started to scrub it clean of even the micro-bits of bacteria that could've crawled all over it.

After a few seconds, I heard Sara's soothing voice from the dinning room.

"It's okay. Your mom's okay," I heard Sara say.

"She's not. I know everyone wants me to think that, but she's different," I heard Lindsey reply.

"Listen to me," Sara started as I laid the plate on top of the others in the sink and listened closely. "Just because she's different doesn't mean anything's wrong. Think of it as her losing her footing while she's coming down from a mountain, trying to find the ground again. She's been through a lot and I'm not just talking about the abduction."

"I know," Lindsey softly said.

"She'll be okay, Linds. Give it time. She doesn't mean to make you upset."

"I know that too," Lindsey said.

I walked away from the sink and closer to the two of them. I peeked through the kitchen door frame and saw Lindsey hug Sara.

"Don't worry," Sara said as she gently squeezed Lindsey in her arms.

"I can't promise that," she said as she buried her face into Sara's neck.

Sara rubbed Lindsey's back and I watched my daughter's shoulders drop as she started to relax.

"I know your mom will work it out," Sara said. "She always does."

Sara gave Lindsey one last rub and the two broke apart. I backed away from the door frame and hid in the kitchen as I went back to washing the dishes.

"What'cha drinking," Sara asked as she made her way toward me.

I looked at her and noted the smirk spread across her face.

"Vodka," I flatly answered as I looked back at the dish in my hand.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"Look, I know you think I still have some issues to work out, but I'm fine."

"I don't think that," she calmly said.

"Really," I asked as I let go of the dish and stared at her with a disbelieving expression.

"Okay, so I think there are a few things you're not dealing with, but I'm not going to force you to deal with them. You'll get there."

"When," I stated rather than asked.

"Eventually you'll get there. Only you can decide how soon you do."

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"God, Sara. Enough of this crap. I'm tired of hearing that I'm not read. I'm not okay, I can't go back to work, I can't feel any better than I do right now, which is a new low for me. I'm tired of sitting around pretending everything is back to normal when no one else wants to shut up about my abduction!"

"Okay," she said as she shrugged and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"That's it? Okay? That's all you're going to say to me?"

"What else do you want me to say, Catherine," she calmly asked. "Tell me what you want."

I stared directly into her eyes and couldn't seem to vocalize what I wanted. So I leaned in and kissed her.

Our lips molded together like drying clay and she pulled her hands out of her pockets and held them up at her sides as though it was a stick up. I tucked my hand into the waistline of her jeans and tugged them down about an inch.

I slipped my tongue into her mouth and high fived it with mine. Suddenly, her timid tongue wanted to wrestle like a pro and the sensation of her hands slowly coming to rest on my biceps caused my nether region to tingle. I pulled her pants in my direction and pressed her body against mine. I flicked her tongue with mine and used that as my exit strategy as I arched my back and broke the kiss.

When I opened my eyes, the two of us were breathless while her chocolate colored eyes stared into my eyes. I loosened my grip on her jeans as I came back to reality, her kiss equivalent to living on cloud nine. She let go of my arms and took a deep breath as she packed her hands into her back pockets.

"I should go," she said as she furrowed her brow. "I'll see you later."

She gave a single nod before she spun on her heels and headed out of the kitchen. She turned toward the front door and I couldn't help but follow her out.

She removed her hands from her pockets as Lou rounded the corner and smiled at her. I watched from the kitchen door frame as he spoke to her.

"Hey. Leaving so soon," he asked.

"Yeah, I just...remembered that I...left the oven on at my apartment," she awkwardly answered with a lie.

"Oh, wow. You need a police escort or something? Firefighters or...?"

"No. Thanks. It should be fine. See ya."

She walked out and hurried to her car. After she started it, she turned and looked at the house one more time. She saw me and, as we locked eyes, I swear she gulped before she looked straight ahead and sped off.

_Crap_.

-

_**I'm happy to get this update out. :) Hopefully you're all happy to see it up too. Let me know what you think and write a review!**_


	6. Chapter 6

I looked around the room at the off-white walls, a neutral color to keep patients calm. It didn't keep me calm, though. Nothing in the office could've kept me calm. I know I needed to talk, but I still wasn't convinced I was ready.

It sounded hypocritical, but that was because I was a hypocrite since I continued to argue with people about my readiness for work and yet, I wasn't ready to talk about everything that happened that night.

"Is there something else you wanted to talk about, Catherine," the department psychologist soothingly asked.

"Yes," I said after a beat. "But...I'm not sure I want to tell you about it. ...No offense," I honestly answered.

"None taken. I'm not out to get you, though. I hope you realize that."

"I know, but with all do respect, what we discuss in here is reflected in a report that my boss will see. Talking about the attack is one thing to have on file here, but having something personal and not work related on the record makes me uncomfortable."

"Understood. Would you like to see another psychologist before you talk to me about Peter Landau?"

"If it's all right with you," I stated.

"It's fine. Reschedule when you're ready...and Catherine?"

"Yes."

"Take all the time you need. It's not a race."

I forced a smile to let him know I was thankful for his advice before verbalizing it.

"Thank you," I said as I stood.  
>"Here's a card to someone who I think you'll like and can help you. Their records stay confidential so you don't have to worry about it getting back to me or your boss," he informed me as he handed me the card over his desk.<p>

"Thank you again. I appreciate it."

He nodded and stepped around his desk as he gestured toward the door.

I followed his gesture with him close behind me.

"I'm looking forward to your call, Ms. Willows," he said as I headed into the hallway.

"I'll be relieved to make that call," I confessed with a genuine smile.

I didn't waste anytime between the departmental shrink and the next therapist on my list. I know it would be more cost effective to call my sister, or even my mom if she'd listen, but there would be too many questions and confused looks. If I told them about the kiss, they'd both be sure to ask if I'd turned into a lesbian that loved flannel shirts and Home Depot, or if I had gone completely insane. In their worlds, that almost meant the same thing.

As I entered the building, I stared down at the business card in my hand to double check the name.

"Dr. Sandra Blocker's office," the receptionist informed someone over the phone.

I was definitely in the right place.

The walls there were painted a light, sky blue with white accents along the horizontal axis. I dropped my arms at my sides and slipped the card into my back pocket as I approached the receptionist.

"Tomorrow at three thirty? Yes, she can do that. Okay. Bye now," the receptionist hung up.

I made eye contact with her and she smiled.

"Do you have an appointment," she politely asked.

"No, I was just referred to Dr. Blocker through another psychologist. I came straight here."

"I'm afraid she's booked today, ma'am. Would you like to schedule an appointment with her?"

"There's no way I can get in to see her today," I asked with fleeting hope.

A door on the other side of the desk opened and a little boy no older than twelve walked out, an athletic looking woman a bit above average height behind him.

"I'll see you next week, okay," she smiled as she guided the boy out to his mother. "He's doing very well, Mrs. Mendoza."

The blonde, athletic-looking woman turned to the receptionist and locked eyes with me.

"Hi, are you my two-thirty appointment," she asked me.

"I don't actually have an appointment but if you're not busy I'd love it if you can see me," I said with slight desperation.

She checked her watch.

"I've got about twenty minutes," she said. "You think that'll suffice?"

"Yes. Thank you," I genuinely smiled as I started to follow her into the back.

"What would like to talk about," she asked as I entered the office.

She shut the door behind me and motioned toward the two chairs in front of her desk.

"Let me see if I can accurately sum it up with only twenty minutes on the clock," I started. "One of my coworkers...saved my life. She's been great since I was...abducted and...last night...we...kissed."

It felt good and wrong at the same time when I heard it out loud. In my head it only sounded wrong.

"And you feel you've overstepped a boundary," she asked.

"She's my female coworker. I'd say the boundary was set at the fact that we're the same sex! Not to mention the fact that she has a husband and probably thinks I'm a crazy lesbian who hits on all her friends."

"Do you like women," she calmly asked.

"I have a boyfriend," I blurted in defense as though I was afraid of the truth I'd find in answering her question.

"Okay," she slowly started. "Do you like her?"

"Of course I do. She's my friend."

"As more than a friend."

"Oh."

I didn't know what to say. I'd never thought about Sara in a romantic way. I didn't think I could.

"I don't know," I finally answered. "I kissed her and I liked it, but I don't understand why. I have a nice, helpful boyfriend who knows what I like in every sense of the phrase, and yet, I kissed her. Of all the people I could cheat on him with and I pick her, the unavailable and only other female CSI on the team."

...

"She...kissed you?"

"Yes, but I kissed her back" Sara slowly explained over the phone as she sat on the edge of her bed.

"Okay," he hesitated. "What...what, uh, does that mean to you?"

"That she and I kissed or that you can't honestly tell me how you feel right now? You need to be specific, Gil."

"I don't know what I feel. I...I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry," Sara started again. I don't know what came over me. When it happened...I got caught up in the moment."

"Maybe...this isn't working anymore," he slowly, solemnly stated.

"What do you mean?"

"Us being apart. I can forgive the kiss because it's my fault for not realizing you were trying to tell me something about Catherine earlier, how you felt. You should come back to Paris."

"That's your solution?"

Sara shook her head and clenched her free fist in frustration.

"I'm not leaving the lab again," she argued. "I belong here. All the fucked up shit that happened on the job in the past is truly in the past. I don't want to go back to Paris to sit on my ass all day every day waiting at home for you. You should come back to Vegas."

"That's not where I belong anymore, Sara."

"We've had this conversation before. That's when we made the decision that I would visit you at least once a month."

"That clearly isn't healthy for our relationship anymore."

She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I don't want to compromise, Gil," she tiredly confessed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Silence.

"Do you want the kiss to be more than a kiss," Grissom asked after a beat.

"I don't know. I don't know what I want at this point."

"Do you still want to be with me," he asked in a low, heartbroken tone.

"I know that I still love you and I'll always love you, but that kiss, whether it meant more to Catherine or not, I felt something. I can't ignore that."

"I don't want you to ignore it and resent me later. As much as it hurts me to say this, I think you should fuel you're feelings for her. Find out what it is you're feeling and...let me know."

She closed her eyes and took a moment to collect herself, keep herself from crying.

"Okay," her voice slowly started to waver. "I'll talk to you then."

She hung up and looked at the ceiling for a moment. When she looked straight ahead at the window in the living room, a single tear streamed down her cheek. She took in a long, deep breath and stuffed her cell phone into her front pocket.

She wiped away the tear, grabbed her keys, and fled to the lab. She didn't want to bury herself in her work, but she didn't know what else to do. Calling a therapist was always an option, but she hated talking about her feelings, which she though she made clear through her actions during her psych evaluation.

When she got to the lab, however, she remembered that she hadn't been cleared for work. In remembering that hindering fact, she slipped into the evidence locker to look up information on the latest case.

"What are you doing here, Sara," a familiar male voice spoke up from behind her.

She tensed up and turned to face the man in the doorway she recognized as Nick.

"You still haven't passed that psych eval and if Ecklie find you in here, he'll kill you," he explained with his Southern drawl.

"How do you know I haven't been cleared?"

"Please. Ecklie has you red flagged until he hears from the shrink. By just being in here you could compromise all these cases."

"Listen," she started. "I know the rules and I know you know that, but I haven't had the best of luck with the psychologists and so far my day hasn't been that great. Can you let this go and let me help on your case?"

He opened his mouth to refute, but she stopped him.

"I don't have to touch," she raised her hands in the air defensively. He closed his mouth and sighed.

"You do not touch anything," he caved. "Everything I tell you about my case stays between us, got it?"

"Got it," she nodded and put her hands back down at her sides.

"And you can't be I the lab until you pass that evaluation."

"What? Then how am I supposed to discuss the case with you?"

"Over the phone. I'll call you whenever I get a new lead, I'll catch you up with what I know as of now, but we can't do it in person. So...go home, go out, go wherever you want, but don't come back here unless you're with the shrink."

She pursed my lips in dissatisfaction and shook her head.

"Fine. See you around," she said as she slipped past him into the hallway.

...

"Ms. Willows," Dr. Blocker said as we concluded our impromptu session. "It's not wrong for you to feel this way about your coworker. You two have worked together for how many years now?"

"About ten or eleven," I answered as I pulled my shirt way from my body, uncomfortable about the subject matter of our conversation.

"And you mentioned you two are the only women where you work. It's not uncommon to identify with someone and suddenly want more from the relationship."

"She saved my life. Who saves someone's life and doesn't have feelings for them," I blankly stared at the front end of her desk.

"Is that what this is about," Dr. Blocker asked with a steady tone. "Paying her back for her act of valor?"

"Lou saved my life and he felt something for me."

"I'm sorry. Who's Lou," she asked out of confusion.

"Mm," I stared a bit longer before I blinked and looked up at her for a split second. "Oh, my boyfriend. Lou's my boyfriend."

"Catherine," she started. "I think we might be getting close to something, but my next appointment should be here. If you make an appointment with my receptionist, I'd be happy to see you again soon."

"Okay," I tried to redirect my line of vision away from her desk. "What do I owe you for our time day?"

"Free of charge."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Next time I see you, you'll have to pay, though."

"Of course. Thank you," I said as I stood up and extended my hand.

She shook it and smiled.

I walked back into the lobby and looked at the receptionist's window. As distracted as I was, I didn't see the person walking toward me and collided with Dr. Blocker's two-thirty appointment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said as I raised a guilty hand to plea my apology.

"No, it's my fault," a female voice said as she tossed a few items back into her purse. "I wasn't paying attention."

I grabbed something of hers that the collision knocked out of her purse and looked up to see her as I handed it back.

"Thanks," she said as she looked up to accept my peace offering of sorts.

Our eyes locked and after a second of self-confirmation, I recognized who had bumped into.

"Laura?"

She squinted as she took a minute to look me over.

"My god. Catherine? Funny running into you here," she smiled and tossed what she had taken from me into her purse.

I chuckled at the situation, as did she, while we both got to our feet.

"Yeah," I agreed as we hugged. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," she shook her head as we separated. "Listen, we should catch up sometime."

"That'd be great," I smiled.

We exchanged phone numbers in no time and made plans to meet somewhere within the next couple days.

"I've got to go obviously," Laura pointed behind her at Dr. Blocker.

"Right," I nodded.

"So...I'll call you and we'll catch up," her smile spread.

My smile followed her lead and spread further across my face before I gave her a single nod in agreement. I left the building and stopped to bask in the glow of the sun and felt my phone vibrate. I pulled it out of my front pocket and checked the screen. I'd received a new text message from Sara.

"Think you can come by my place? We should talk," it read.

I slowly let out a sigh and looked out at the area around me highly saturated with sunlight.

"Sure. I'll see you in about twenty five minutes," I replied.

As not to be called a liar, I made it to Sara's apartment with three minutes to spare. I pushed back my hair and bit my bottom lip before I knocked on her door, afraid of everything on the other side of it.

After a few seconds, the door opened and Sara appeared with an awkward smile on her face.

"Hey. Thanks for coming," she greeted.

"Of course," I forced my own awkward smile.

She stepped aside to let me through and I made my way through the threshold.

She shut the door behind me and I attempted to take a few deep breaths to relax. I didn't know how she felt about what happened and I didn't want to hear that our kiss ruined our friendship.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine," I lied.

Underneath my form-fitting jeans and long, semi-loose shirt, I was sweating bullets, afraid of what she wanted to tell me.

"Okay," she moved on. "Make yourself at home."

I gave an awkward, forced nod of acknowledgment and comprehension as I fidgeted toward the couch.

Sara sat down next to me as I tried to make myself comfortable.

"What did you want to talk about," I asked without making eye contact.

Silence.

"Look at me," she gently demanded.

My lips slowly started to part after hearing those words and I turned to her to see if I could figure out her next move.

Sara Sidle was the toughest puzzle I'd ever worked on. There was no way in hell one look would suddenly give me all the answers. So why was it that when I locked eyes with her in that moment I got all the answers I needed?

...  
><strong>Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. By the end of the week, I should have chapter 7 posted. :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Her hand inched toward my thigh as she leaned in and looked from my eyes to my lips. My breathing hitched and I couldn't help but focus on her lips as they gravitated toward mine.

She walked her fingertips up the outside of my thigh to the top of it and slid her hand flat against it. I bit my bottom lip and ruled out the possibility of any conversation. The only communication was going to be through the language of our bodies, and I was more than happy to let my body do all the talking.

She moved her hand closer to my pleasure zone and tethered her lips to mine. Our lips remained pressed together for several of the most peaceful moments of my life. We eased apart and I took a few seconds to fully open my eyes. When I did, I found myself staring into chocolate brown eyes I felt myself melting in as they stared deep into mine.

Her hand moved from my thigh up to the side of my face and neck before she guided me onto my back on the couch.

She kissed me again and I instinctively, intuitively arched my back. She mounted me and took a single fluid movement to adjust herself atop me. I passed a few fingers through the tips of her hair before I ran them back in the opposite direction and grabbed a fistful.

I pulled her closer to my impatient body that craved more of her and deepened our following kisses.

After plenty of those passionate moments where our tongues collided in an intoxicating way, she lowered her mouth to the right side of my neck and bit me.

"Unh," I moaned as my hand fell from her hair to her bicep. "Harder."

Sara joyously obliged and bit me a few inches lower than the first bite mark.

Out of sheer pleasure, I dug my nails into Sara's bicep and used my free hand to tug on the waistband of Sara's pants, every finger except my thumb inside her short cut briefs.

She kissed where she had bit me and swiveled over to my left side. She nibbled on my earlobe and used one of her hands to run down the length of my body, starting from where she bit me to the button on my jeans.

I squirmed under her and raised one of my knees until it hit her ass.

"Mm," she purred as I ran my thigh along her core at a tantalizingly slow pace.

She pressed her lips against mine and slipped her tongue past my parted lips. She then began to lift my shirt from my waist to the under wire of my bra. I gently bit her bottom lip as she reached down again and unbuttoned my jeans with a few slick flicks of the wrist.

I released her lip and maneuvered one of my legs around her waist, the other still flat against her core.

"I bet you can do the same thing with my bra" I said as my pupils grew wide out of desire.

"You are absolutely correct," she hummed as she reached under me and brushed her hand against my back in her journey to the clasp of my bra.

With each movement she made, I arched my back even more to give her easier access. The moment her finger landed on the clasp, my breasts were free from restraint. She tugged on the under wire while I shrugged off the straps. Once the bra was off me and in her hand, Sara dropped it on the floor and grabbed the hem of my shirt on either side.

I sat up, she took my lead, and peeled off my shirt. In one swift move, Sara gracefully flung the shirt across the room and lowered herself onto me once again.

"You're beautiful," she growled like a predator preparing to pounce on their prey.

She kissed my collarbone and made her way down and around my chest. I felt like luckiest woman on the planet as every action, every touch, created a new wave of excitement that rippled though my veins.

She ran her fingertips against my body as she headed to the one place I never thought she would touch in that lifetime. I gasped and squirmed under her control as she grinned down at me. If I had known we were going to go even that far, I wouldn't have gone to Dr. Blocker, though it didn't hurt to get my feelings off my chest when I wasn't sure how I really felt in the first place.

She twirled her fingertips around my opening and brought them back up to my clit. With her index finger, she put pressure on that sensitive spot of nerves for a split second before she flicked her finger upward and brought her hand up to my stomach. I subtly moaned at the contact she had made, but when her fingers reached my stitches, I squeezed my eyes shut before I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Don't," I exclaimed, short of breath.

Her grin turned into a look of concern as she removed her hand from my stomach and sat up, still on top me.

"Why," she asked.

"We can't do this," I explained as I attempted to get up as well as get her off me at the same time.

"Catherine, we need to talk to each other. We obviously aren't talking to the shrink. We should at least talk out whatever we need to with each other, off the record and in complete confidence," she calmly argued.

"I have more to confess than you I'm sure," I somewhat harshly stated.

"You really think so," she asked with a hurt look in her eyes.

"Yes," I confidently said.

There was a moment of silence between us, neither us moving.

"Then I guess we're done here," she coldly stated as she lifted herself off me.

She moved across the room and picked up my shirt while I sat up on the couch and bent over to retrieve my bra.

She tossed my shirt at me with an icy stare that sent an unpleasant chill down my spine.

I got dressed with a hint of regret and gulped a few times to fight back tears of frustration.

"I hope to see you at work soon," she flatly said.

"You passed your eval?"

"I'm about to."

She walked to the door and opened it wide for me. I headed toward her and walked out without looking back at her to keep things from being more awkward than they were already.

When I heard the door slam behind me I jumped a little and closed my eyes, on edge and more stressed than I thought physically possible.

...

After a quick shower, Sara grabbed her keys and high-tailed it to the lab. She scheduled an impromptu appointment with the good doctor during her drive and, though she clenched the steering wheel out of anger, she was prepared to let go of the thing that held her back.

"Sara," the psychologist said as he adjusted himself behind his desk. "Nice to-"

"Dr. Jameson," Sara cut him off. "I'd like to get to the point of this session before I change my mind. Is that okay with you?"

"If you feel you'll change your mind, you can't possibly be ready to talk," he explained.

"No, I'm ready," she firmly stated.

Dr. Jameson hesitated, but nodded as a gesture for her to continue.

Sara released a sigh to ease her way into the subject.

"That night...when I heard she'd been kidnapped...I couldn't believe it," she slowly started.

"_Nobody's seen Catherine since she went back to the scene a couple hours ago," Nick said as he rushed into the layout room with a manila case file in his hand._

"_And no one thought to go with her," Sara asked with a furrowed brow as she snatched the file from Nick._

_Sara opened the folder and placed it on the table in front of the group._

_Greg sighed and pulled the folder closer to him._

"_Look, we know where she was about two hours ago and we have good leads on the guy who's behind this. We'll find her," Greg explained in all seriousness._

_Sara shook her head._

"_I should've come in earlier," Sara began to beat herself up._

"_Sara," Nick started. "There's nothing you could've done. None of us could have done anything. How were we supposed to know?"_

"_It's our job to know! Suspects come back to the scene all the time. Not to mention, this isn't the first time there's been a suspect on location when Catherine was on the scene. This shouldn't have happened."_

"I'd called in that night. Told Catherine I'd be an hour late due to personal reasons," Sara explained to Dr. Jameson. "I never call in. I've never missed a day of work, let alone called to say I'd be late, until that night. Why did it have to be that night?"

Sara appeared on the verge of tears as she asked her rhetorical question.

"So you were already emotional when you heard from one of your colleagues that she was missing" Dr. Jameson stated.

"Yes?"

"Why was that?"

"We're the only two female field agents the lab's got. We had a lot to talk about, a lot in common."

"But you weren't always friends."

She silently stared at the psychologist for a moment before she continued.

"No, we weren't. But...after a while...you realize good friends who will have your back are are to come by these days. We worked side by side one long, hot summer and found that talking to each other was more helpful than harmful."

"Okay. So what happened once you'd figured out Pete Landau was behind everything?"

Sara licked her lips and continued.

"_We've got to get her before he makes her his next victim," Nick said with wide eyes._

_Sara already had the keys to her work vehicle in her hands, half way out the door in a quick jog toward the parking lot._

_She raced to Peter Landau's last known address, unsure if he'd even be there, though he wasn't her concern._

"Knowing all the things I know about abuse, I didn't want Catherine to deal with it, which I'm sure I've stated for the record."

Dr. Jameson nodded.

"Last time she was involved in something like that, she freaked out afterward."

"And when you said she'd been with a suspect on location before? What did you mean by that?"

"She was dusting prints. I wasn't there, but the whole lab heard about it. Uh, but she was alone in the victim's living room and the suspect caught her off guard. He bashed her head into a wall and when Warrick pulled him off her, she was tossed onto the floor, into a pool of blood."

"I see. You protect all your coworkers like you protect Ms. Willows?"

"I'd protect them all however I could, but...Catherine's different."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to jump ahead to when you found her," he requested after a short beat.

Sara slowly nodded.

_Sara burst through the door with Captain Jim Brass by her side, a handful of cops behind them for backup. Peter Landau squirmed on top of feisty Catherine Willows and created a white hot rage inside Sara._

_Catherine's soft but bold blue eyes told a story of pain and loss in one glimpse. Sara recognized that look of shame from the mirror once upon time. She saw how defeated Catherine was and pulled the trigger._

_Everything happened in flashes and blinks, Sara's attention directed at Catherine as she pushed Landau's body off herself. Sara rushed to Catherine's side and ran a hand through Catherine's partially wet and matted down hair. She allowed herself to cry as the images of her world crashing down around her at a young age flooded her mind. She knew Catherine would have images of her own to haunt her now that Landau had gotten her._

_Catherine clutched Sara's left forearm for support as she curled into the brunette's comforting body. She squeezed her eyes shut and let a few tears of her own escape. A few immediately landed on Sara's arm._

"_It's over," Sara whispered to Catherine._

"Catherine doesn't know this, but I see her as a hero. She's a single mom and she's had her fair share of burdens. That kind of abuse was my cross to bear. It should've been me. I've already been down that road. Rape has shaped me into the person I am today. It didn't have to change her into the person she'll now always be," Sara started to cry. "I've been able to save everyone else around me from getting hurt, but I couldn't save her. All the others, the ones I'd saved, I was only a kid. Why couldn't I save her?"

"Do you believe in the saying, 'everything happens for a reason'?"

"Yes...but if this happened for a reason, I'll never understand it."

She wiped her tears with either index finger and sniffled.

"Off the record," Sara slowly started again. "I think I'm in love with her."

...

**Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Chapter eight is in the works. I'll post it as soon as I can. :) Don't forget to write a review! :D**


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